The One Who Stole the Sky

The Canvas

Liesel wakes to the sound of a glass spilling in Max's studio. It lightly echoes a pitchy note. She sits up and listens for a little while longer. Footsteps. Rustling. Liesel feels her face flush as she listens to the new sounds moving about just feet away, down the hall. Her feet press to the cold night's floor and remain there for a moment. Her feet walk slowly a crossed the floor, imitating the sound stickers make when peeling them off of their backings. She turns the brass knob in front of her and swings the door open. Very carefully she tiptoes to the edge of the hall and peers around the corner where she sees an illuminated light. It is Max, hunched over, barely breathing as he moves about in his seat. He's working, working very hard. Liesel wonders if she should interrupt him or go back to bed. After a moment she chooses the latter and crawls back into her room.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Max stands in front of Liesel with his hands on his hips. She stares up at him from the couch and says nothing.

"Pancakes it is." Max raises his hands and walks into the kitchen to prep the batter. For a moment Liesel feels a sudden burst of curiosity. What was he painting? Liesel thinks. She watches him in the kitchen for a moment, his mind so fixated on the pancakes, that she feels now is the time to check. Silently, she sneaks over to his giant project table and pulls back the giant cloth that covers the canvas. It's blank. Well, it's plain. The background was a deep navy, almost a black color, yet Liesel couldn't help but make the observation that a good portion of the canvas remained white. She was taken back by the size of the canvas, and the paint cans that neatly lined themselves against the wall. She pulled back the cloth and sat back down on the couch. Something wet itched at the palm of her hand, and when she opened it she revealed black paint stamped in spots around her fingers. Diligently, she rushed to the bathroom to wash it off.

"Liesel come eat!" Max raised his voice in a generous way.

She dried off her hands and came back out through the living room and into the kitchen. It was a very open floor design where each room altered into the next. The only rooms tucked away were the bedrooms and bathroom. The only way you could differentiate the rooms was with the changing of the floor. A medium shade of brown wooden flooring made for majority of this agreeable home, with the exception of tile in the kitchen. The dining room, however, was Liesel's favorite room. It had dark green chairs striking the perimeter of the dark brown table with small flecks of gold absorbed into the polished piece. Best of all, Liesel enjoyed the wallpaper made of the same green prevalent in the chairs, but the green was intertwined with golden and copper flower print. The print somehow was masculine, despite the colors and flowers upon it.

Liesel sat at the head of the table, Max opposite of her at the other end. They ate in a silence that wanted broken. Liesel wanted to break it with her curiosity of the canvas, but decided it was too personal of a question, and that she would see it completed when he finished.

"Today's Saturday Liesel, have you any plans?" Max asked as he smacked butter onto his pancakes.

"Reading." Liesel answered.

"Reading? On Saturday? Liesel, you must want to do something else, anything." Max shrugged at her with his mouth half full. This made Liesel grin, this messy and clumsy style Max lived up to.

"What's funny?" Max wiped his mouth.

"Nothing." Liesel stood and took her plate and Max's to the kitchen. In a way it pained her to not be able to tell him what was funny without making the feelings difficult like how they always ended up.

"Would you like to go on a walk?" Max offered.

"Yes, we can do that." Liesel nodded her head. She went to her room and changed from her sleeping gown into a quarter-sleeve yellow and white dress. Max waited for her by the door until she had finished.

"You look older than twenty!" Max exclaimed when he saw Liesel in her outing clothes.

"I'm sorry Max, I thought it was an awfully modest dress. I can change again." Liesel was on her way to her room.

"No! Liesel, that's not how I meant it." Max stood by the door, holding it open for her. She smiled and went through.

They landed by the local park, on a bench, under a tree. It was silent.

"Are you happy here?" Max asked Liesel. She felt her heart sink, and all she thought of was how Max dealt with her a tangential behavior when she spoke.

"Yes, I just have to work on my writing." Liesel impassively answered.

"I'm sure your book will be quite the acclaim." Max smiled. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Liesel crossed her legs.

"I doubt that." She laughed pathetically while shading her eyes from the bright sun.

"No I'm serious." Max looked at her with a convincing face.

"Stop." Liesel laughed and pushed at Max in a joking manner. Couples looked at them in disgust, as they never saw a lady act like that towards a man, and most suspected Liesel to be a brand new mistress. They, clearly, were not aware of the situation Liesel and Max were in. Both of them didn't care, and as long as they did not listen to anyone, they lived contently alienated by most people.

"Alright Liesel, the sun is setting. Best we get home since I have a long night of work tonight." Liesel has enjoyed the day, and so when he said this she was at peace. Together, they got up and began to go home.

"I'm proud of you, Liesel." Max commented casually.

"For what?" She wondered.

"For how such a young lady is already so polished and good-mannered, yet having the urge and itch for freedom and the will of following no rules." Max responded.

"I don't know what to say to that." Liesel smiles up to him.

"I wouldn't either." Max sighed. His hands were shoved into his pockets. Liesel's were behind her. Both struck the sidewalk with demanding clicking from their shoes.