I will! No hangover for me please
Then a picture comes through of her blowing me a kiss with a sleepy, make-up free, adorable face, her hair still huge in a bow. So I send her a goofy, kissy face selfie back. She already seems less drunk, so that’s encouraging. Taran finishes typing away on his phone too, smiling at the screen.
“Lyra says this is going to be a quarterly thing,” he informs me.
“Judging from how much fun it looks like they had, I’m not surprised. So I guess we’ll be doing this quarterly too, I need to get better at Smash Brothers before next time,” Itell him with a grin. He scoffs and playfully shoves my shoulder on the way to take first dibs in the bathroom. He gets ready for bed and passes out in the guest room quickly. I’m still restless though, not used to sleeping alone anymore. I know the cats will be with me, but it’s not the same. With my art classes starting in the fall, and a huge hit of inspiration from our trip to Grounds for Sculpture a week ago, I decide it’s the perfect time to do some sketching to quiet my mind. Going to my dresser, I grab my sketchbook sitting on it and a pencil from the cup next to it. I curl up in bed with the furballs and just start sketching.
I sketch Tish, who splays herself out on the foot of the bed. The way she always seems almost boneless when she lies down in crazy positions needs to be captured. Her front paws are pulled up under her chin going to her right side, her spine is completely twisted, with her back legs going the opposite way. I’m going to title this sketch Kitty Yoga. I work on getting the way her body twists and paws splay in a stretch perfectly. Toe beans are seriously adorable, and Tish has the cutest ever because they’re pink and black. Once I get the basics of the sketch just right, I work on the expression of her face, then fill in and shade her fur and markings. I’m pretty pleased with it, but when I show Tish I think she wishes I got her better side. She seems pretty indifferent.
Then I pull up my phone, because I have a lightning bolt of inspiration for my next sketch. Thumbing through my photos, I find the one I’m looking for. It’s my favorite that I’ve ever taken of Tania from a few mornings ago. Her head is on her pillow facing me, her hair gorgeous and wild around her stunning features. The way her warm eyes crinkle and her full lips are parted mid laugh makes her dimple pop. She’s bathed in soft morning light, looking likea goddess among mortals. The strap of her little sleepwear tank falls down slightly onto her shoulder, giving her a completely effortless sexiness. This is perfect to practice my human portrait skills, but she will be the only person who sees it. Unless she really likes it and is ok with me posting it all over social media and getting it into shows with the title, This Stunning Woman Is My Girlfriend.
I set to work outlining her heart shaped face, the long column of her neck, the curve of her shoulder with the strap hanging off, her elegant collarbone. She’s an artist’s dream to draw. Capturing the warmth and sparkle in her eyes, though? I nearly throw the book and the pencil in frustration because I can’t seem to get it right. This is why I need classes instead of just winging it like an idiot. I take a breath and try again. Finally, I’m happy with how the shading and pencil work make her eyes look like warm, shiny, melted chocolate, with a mischievous sparkle to them.
I move on to shade in the other details of her face like her button nose, full lips, and the little beauty mark she has above her upper lip. The contours of her face come together, giving her the high cheekbones and angular chin I love so much. Using her picture for guidance on this sketch is great, but having her pose live would be even better to capture all of the minutiae in her expression. Then she could make all of the “paint me like one of your French girls” jokes. I’d say, “he painted landscapes,” in a deadpan voice after she says Monet would never blush like I do. The fantasies are just writing themselves in my mind with this woman. I dream of her when I finally drift off to sleep.
In the morning Taran and I have a quick breakfast and coffee together, sleepy since neither of us slept well without our women. He leaves quickly, eager to get home to hisfiancée and dogs. I get a text from Tania that she’s on her way home just as he pulls away. I get the cats fed and make sure the apartment is pretty clean before she gets here. She walks in with a big smile, running up to throw her arms around my neck and kiss me soundly.
“Hi,” she says against my mouth. Gomez and Tish are already circling her and yowling, wanting her attention too.
“Hi sweetheart,” I say with a smile. “Do you need coffee or breakfast?” She shakes her head.
“We all had a bite to eat and coffee at Lyra’s, so I’m good, thanks. How was it here? You and Taran had fun?”
“He destroyed me in Smash Brothers, we had pizza and beer, I can never complain about a night like that. The cats were hilarious with him, they didn’t know what to make of him smelling like Brody and Lilly.”
“Brody and Lillyyyyy,” she croons, “they were so cute. I didn’t know I’d love dogs so much, they used to intimidate me because the only other one I knew was next door to my old foster home. They kept the poor thing outside a ton and he was really aggressive. That’s more on the asshole owners, though.” I grimace.
“Poor thing. That is definitely all on the asshole owners. I love dogs too, I think cats are much easier though. I like that they don’t need to be walked in crappy weather.”
“That’s very true. No getting up at the ass crack of dawn in the snow to shovel a path for them to do their business.”
“Exactly,” I affirm, bringing her in to squeeze her more and kiss her forehead. “I missed you last night, as pathetic as that may sound,” I tell her roughly. Her whole body melts into mine, and it occurs to me that maybe only Celeste and me tell her we miss her. After losing so many loved ones, I know she craves being missed, and havingpeople want her around. I will always make sure she knows I want her around.
“I missed you, too, baby. A lot,” she murmurs sweetly. Goddamn do those words make my throat constrict and my heart pound. The woman of my dreams is telling me she missed me and calls me baby. I’ll never take for granted how lucky I am.
“I was sketching last night after Taran went to sleep, want to see?” I ask as I reluctantly pull away from her.
“Of course!” Her enthusiasm is punctuated with a clap of her hands. I grab my sketchbook from my room and show her Tish first.
“Holy crap. You got her perfect. Look at the way there’s movement in the fur and her limbs. I love it when she lies down like that all twisted,” she enthuses. Then she flips to the next page and audibly gasps, one hand covering her mouth. Her eyes fill up as they skim over the picture I sketched of her.
“Did you do this from the picture you took?” Her voice is so soft, almost reverent.
“I did. Sometime I’d love to have you sit for a portrait so I can capture all of your little micro expressions. Do you like it?” She looks up at me like she’s shocked I would even ask such a stupid question.
“Like it? Carlo, this is incredible. It belongs in that exhibit we saw. I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself look so beautiful and carefree.”
“You are ALWAYS beautiful, mi sueño,” I tell her firmly. She shakes her head and waves a dismissive hand. I see a tear slip down her cheek, so I automatically reach out to catch it with my thumb. She leans into it and takes a big breath before responding.
“Objectively, I know I’m not ugly and I know what my features are like. What you captured? How you perceiveme and put it down on paper like this? I never thought I could be this woman.” She points at the drawing for emphasis. “This is a woman who is over the moon happy and in love, and it shows in the drawing. It makes me feel beautiful inside and out, like I’m glowing. You did that.” She buries her head into my chest, her free arm snaking around my waist.
“It took me forever to get your eyes right,” I admit, kissing her hair. “I wanted to capture just how soft, trusting, and sparkly they get only when we’re snuggled safe in bed together.” She pulls back to look at the drawing again, examines it closely, and nods slowly, clearly at a loss for words. “Thank you,” she finally whispers. Then she turns to me with mischief in her eyes.
“So you want me to pose for you? Will this be a “paint me like one of your French girls” moment?”
My jaw drops, and I scoop her up to throw her over my shoulder.
“Woman, get out of my head, that’smyfantasy,” I tell her with a big smack to her ass. She cackles all of the way to the bedroom before I throw her on the bed and kiss her like there’s no tomorrow.