"Will you let me make it up to you?" He asked in a whisper.
I whispered a 'yes' before feeling his lips softly touch mine. The soft-touch turned into that eager want. One small kiss made all the pent-up anger go away. My body let go once his touch r...
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Mornings were never the best for me. After last night's 'event', I wanted to stay in bed a little longer. The warmth of the covers kept me in just a little bit before the sound of my alarm blared out into the room. Groaning, I got up and got ready the day. Opening the cupboard door, I pulled out my old, ripped skinny jeans and my off-white baggy top that I wore whenever I was planning to do something messy and time consuming. Going into the kitchen, I decided to make my usual cup of tea and a cheese bagel for breakfast.
That's the part I loved about living alone. There was no one judging me when I got up. I acted how I wanted to. No Façade, no mask, just me.
Placing my breakfast on a plate and grabbing my mug, I walked down to the gallery ready for another day of work. Taking a quick sip from my mug and a quick bite of my bagel, I placed them both onto the studio table. Tying my hair up, I looked at the blank canvas that had been causing me so much pain.
This is going to take forever.
I scrunched up my face and looked at the post it note I had stuck on it yesterday.
'Big Piece. GET IT DONE!' were scrawled in my handwriting. I took it off and crumpled it in my hand. Taking another sip of tea, I wondered why inspiration wouldn't hit me when I needed it the most. Why couldn't cupid shoot me with an arrow that said inspiration instead of love? That's the last thing I wanted. That's the last thing I needed. Love. The four-letter word beginning with 'L' which drove everybody crazy... absolutely insane.
Sighing, I decided to go to the cupboard and get a drawing pad and a couple cans of spray paint. I took the lilac can and shook it vigorously.
Hearing a knock at the door, I inwardly groaned and slammed the cannister onto the table.
"Don't worry it's only me!" John Halliwell's, or as I liked to call him Mr Halliwell, voice resonated in the halls. The former owner of the gallery entered the building with another one of his paintings. Even though he sold the building to me 2 years ago, he still liked to give a helping hand when he didn't have his grandkids. He had to keep busy, that's who he was. His kind eyes paired with his radiant smile were just one of the things that made him a trusted neighbour and friend in the Hamptons.
"I thought you might want this for the new year."
I looked at the abstract piece that was framed in gold. Mr Halliwell was right in bringing this piece for the new year period.
"It's beautiful," I remarked. The dark, thick strokes were absorbed by the tinges of blue. Flecks of white were hidden amongst the blue. It was as if the artist was trying to echo Jackson Pollock. It was definitely a piece that would have people thinking.
I turned around to the former owner of the gallery, an idea forming in my head. "What if I did a portrait of your wife?"
Mr Halliwell gave me a soft smile, as his eyes told me something else. Yeah, that wasn't one of my best ideas. He had told me that the both of them built the gallery together. She would offer art classes while he would sell paintings to the rich.
