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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 15:40:27 GMT -5
She blinked, but nodded, not really speaking, just holding onto him as he led her away.
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Post by Skittery on Nov 15, 2011 15:44:48 GMT -5
He led her back to the House, not saying a word. Once they were inside, he started up the stairs, heading toward the attic.
((Whenever I'm home alone - like today - I turn on my iTunes or my iPhone and just siiiing to my heart's content. My dogs love it.))
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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 15:46:27 GMT -5
((My dogs do too! They howl along!))
She followed him silently, fingers locked with his where they held hands. She was suddenly very, very nervous.
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Post by Skittery on Nov 15, 2011 15:52:49 GMT -5
((CUTE! Mine just lay there, sometimes they stare or wag their tails. But mainly they just sleep. Whatever!))
Once they were up in the attic, he helped take off her coat, setting it down gently on the floor. He did the same with his own coat before turning to admire his handiwork. He had stolen her leftover brownies and set them on a blanket spread on the floor. In front of the blanket was a big square thing covered with a sheet.
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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 15:54:47 GMT -5
((Haha, yeah, my dogs are divas  )) Her lips parted as she saw the blanket and the brownies, and then the sheet. She knew what was under it. Her voice was almost a whisper. "Your painting..." |
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Post by Skittery on Nov 15, 2011 15:58:28 GMT -5
He nodded, his throat suddenly very dry. He'd lugged it upstairs when barely anyone else had been in the house, including Maggie. The basement was very unromantic, and he didn't want to even bring her down there.
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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 16:05:00 GMT -5
She moved closer, fingers reaching for the sheet, then she hesitated, looking back at him. "Can I--can I see...?"
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Post by Skittery on Nov 15, 2011 16:29:09 GMT -5
He went ahead and pulled the sheet off, revealing a painting of New York at night. It was reminiscent of his favorite painter, Renoir's, style, but there were twists that definitely made the painting all Skittery. The dark colors, the gloomy feeling of it all.
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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 16:33:29 GMT -5
Maggie stared at it, completely in awe. She didn't know he had it in him. It was beautiful, with a kind of modern elegance. "Michael...oh, Michael, it's..." She pulled her eyes away to look up at him. "It's perfect..."
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Post by Skittery on Nov 15, 2011 17:20:29 GMT -5
He blushed fiercely, barely meeting her eyes. "It's all right, I guess..." he muttered.
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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 17:25:03 GMT -5
She moved back to him, taking his hands in hers. "Mike, it's good. It's really good. You're so talented." She looked up at him, trying to catch his gaze.
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Post by Skittery on Nov 15, 2011 17:32:08 GMT -5
"Do you really think so?" he asked, sounding much like a small boy seeking approval. He was glad she liked it, even if he wasn't happy with it.
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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 17:35:05 GMT -5
She nodded, smiling softly. "I do." She lifted a hand to touch her fingers to his cheek softly.
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Post by Skittery on Nov 15, 2011 17:39:53 GMT -5
He took her hand and kissed her fingers, one by one. "I'm glad you like it. I wish I could paint more, but canvases are getting more expensive."
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Post by Script on Nov 15, 2011 17:43:01 GMT -5
She smiled. Oh, yup. She definitely knew what she was getting him for Christmas. "It's okay. You'll figure something out."
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))