Heterochromic Haze

13- Feel

Everett texts me about ten minutes before he shows up the next day, but by now I'm not really expecting anything less. He knows to let himself in which is why I'm not really paying attention when he arrives.

"You're doing so well, Catherine. You gave me a scare for a minute there, yes you did, but look at you, Baby Girl. Thriving. Living your best life. Yes queen, you're so gorgeous I could just..."

I stop fawning over my jade plant when I hear the awkward shuffle of feet behind me.

I look over to find Everett watching me with a peculiar expression.

I purse my lips, mulling this over.

"How long have you been there?" I ask curiously.

"Not long." He says immediately.

I frown, humming unhappily to myself. That undoubtedly means he's been there longer than I'd like. Never mind.

"Right." I say, somehow managing to water myself with my watering can in the process.

Everett watches me fall apart for a moment longer, his stoic expression unchanging, before a tiny smile lifts his lips. The sight of it makes me feel better.

I usher him to his seat, offering him a glass of water as usual which he, as usual, declines.

He's basically capable of getting into position without my moving him. Not that I let that stop me from touching him.

My hands glide over his back, tilting his neck, sweeping through his hair fondly. The rings on my fingers gleam in contrast to the rich deep tones of his hair, like moonlight in the night.

He watches me retreat and I pick up my phone tiresomely, wondering what music to put on.

During one of my chattier moments last week I had shared that all of my playlists are named like candle scents. He laughed so hard I had to reposition him once he was done. After talking him through each one, he concurred that they were good names.

"Woodland stroll?" I question and Everett smiles, nodding. He's listened to just about every single one of my playlists by now, but this one seems to be his favourite.

I press shuffle and fall straight into it, silently mouthing along to the songs as I work. The sculpture is very nearly finished, only minor details left to go and the thought makes me upset.

I hope that nothing will change when it's finished, but I know it will.

My stomach flips at the idea of Everett disappearing from my life. He's like the sun, if he were to leave me I'd be blind to every other pleasure that used to light my dark night. The thought makes me inwardly despair.

"Do you like making sculptures?" Everett's voice asks suddenly and I snap out of my reverie, looking at him.

I don't usually tolerate my models talking, but as with all my other rules, this one doesn't seem to apply to Everett either.

"What?" I ask and he tilts his head before righting it again.

"Usually, when you're working you're frowning. I was just wondering if you actually like it." He says and I ponder the question, my fingers smoothing down the clay of his shoulders.

"I love it. It's the only thing that I ever really want to do. It's frustrating and painful sometimes but I live for it. I love the process. Being able to take what's up here," I say, tapping my forehead.

"And bring it to life? That's amazing, but making people feel things, inspiring a new picture, inducing some sort of thought in someone else's mind? That's what I live to do." I murmur, glancing back at him.