The Ocean's Enigma ♡ Frerard

VI; Artistic Blooming

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Being surrounded by art was not at all an intimidating experience to Gerard as it may have been when he was young, discovering the limits and the abilities implanted into his fingertips at birth. Encasing a pencil in a finger's embrace felt like home, eyes skating over blemished canvases holding pieces of the heart belonging to the creator was more intimate than challenging. Gerard could see through the blending of oil paint and dissected the rich tones of pink from a lover, the intense blues of a heartbreak leaking into the bright shades of red as anger settled into the thoughtful brain unforgiving of their previous partner. The shades of sadness, anxiety, happiness, all jumping out from the frames surrounding them where they laid attached to the walls, breathtaking as any film while Gerard slowly made his way through the white halls with a new companion at his side.

These paintings became a tenderly beloved partner under the virgin gaze of a man unsuspecting of what he would see before he eagerly stepped foot into the building. Frank held this cherub innocence in his gaze that seemed to brighten the honey liquid in the swirling irises attaching onto anything he chose to settle his attention on. Gerard kept his eyes flickering back and forth between the art work and the look on Frank's face to evaluate each of his expressions, the flurry of movements across his features the deeper they ventured into the museum. Frank would suddenly stop in front of Gerard and the man nearly tumbled into him every time, but he managed to hit the breaks on his legs, looking into the art Frank gazed at, leaned closer to, soft lips moving into a rounded shape of amazement. He was a work of art himself from the unpredictable nature of his movements, the beat to his steps, the fall of his hair framing his face and at times fluttering across his cheek whenever he halted abruptly.

Gerard wished he could be as eager as his lively friend, experiencing the rawness of the art haunting the walls of this building with fresh eyes running over the streaks paintbrushes left over wide canvases once white with purity. He witnessed his own art now, paint bleeding over surfaces and splattering over tired skin during the deepest hours of the night where a busy mind couldn't count the seconds in intervals of times. His eyes memorized the flaws and perfections of the art he viewed now countless times during periods where art fell away from his own hands and he was far too submerged in troubles to be inspired.

"This one is so beautiful." Frank breathlessly spoke out loud, leaning over the velvet ropes keeping views from touching the expert carving of hands stained with red paint mimicking blood. The indents and the lines of the palms, the way the blood streaked paths between the dips of the knuckles, Gerard treasured this carving as one of his favorite pieces in the museum.

"I remember the day the artist entered this piece here." Gerard glided his fingertips slowly over the ropes. "I never saw who they were, but I remember seeing it drawing the attention of everyone standing around in the room. There was so much chatter about it. The detail is stunning, I wish I could have complimented the artist on their amazing work."

Frank gazed at the sculpture in awe. His fingers danced along the velvet ropes as Gerard's did, mimicking his movements until their hands brushed together. Frank merely pulled his hand away, a tiny smile hinting at his lips, and Gerard's cheeks flooded with foreign color, his hand drawing away from the velvet.

"Do you make sculptures?" Frank whirled his attention onto Gerard, almost too intense in the shimmer of his molten gaze and pure wide eyed look to be done in such a short notice. Gerard was floored for a moment, rubbing the hand Frank brushed against.

"I don't. It's one thing I never learned how to do, but I don't think I was meant to sculpt." Gerard admitted humbly, knowing what the energy in his fingers was meant for. He couldn't imagine chipping away at stone to unravel the image laying underneath, art's desire seeping into hard rock and powdery messes.