"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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The paintbrush stroked the canvas, filling it with colour. The blank white spaces disappeared as something brighter filled the page. A moment from a story was being told. All I could think was the moment playing in my head. The orchestra playing music filled my ears. The clinks of the champagne glasses could be heard as people toasted to someone's success. They didn't realise they were toasting another person's demise. My heart pounded against my chest. As of it was a bird trying to set itself free from the cage.
Knock, knock.
I turned around and found myself back to where I had been working the past week. My mind had wondered back to the memory. The vivid, clear, unforgettable memory. There, standing in the doorway of the studio, was Beth.
"Hey," She said with a smile. In her hands there were a beautiful bouquet in a silver ceramic vase. My heart started to flutter at the arrangement.
"Hi," I smiled back. I placed my paintbrushes and palette on the table. I grabbed the nearest rag and wiped away any traces of paint that were on my fingertips. The last thing I wanted was to have paint marks on anything that wasn't supposed to.
"These are for you," Beth said, trying so hard to hide the smile that was beaming on her face
"For me?" I asked, puzzled at who would send me flowers.
Beth nodded as she set it onto the studio table and perched herself onto one the stools.
Tulips, daisies, daffodils, roses, jasmines... even the blue bells were somehow white. All the flowers were white. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach flutter as I looked at each of the buds individually. Lightly touching each of the flowers, I found a small cream envelope peeking through.
"So, who is it from?" Beth asked in a singsong, playful voice.
Placing the arrangement on the studio table, I plucked the envelope from its hiding place. Opening it, my heart skipped a beat. My eyes quickly skimmed over the handwritten note and number.
"It's from Dorian."
"You're kidding!" Beth gasped with delight. "Oh my gosh Alena that is so sweet."
"Beth," I shook my head in disbelief. "It's honestly just nothing."
We both knew the truth. The truth was the flowers weren't nothing. Nothing would be no flowers at all and no handwritten note. These were something. This was a gesture. A token. It was a way to get hold of my attention. And Dorian had.
"Oh, I honestly can't wait until Jacob proposes."
I tensed slightly at her statement and pretended to read the card again.
"You know something."
"No, I don't." I said staring at the card and refusing to look up.
