TEMPTRESS

XXII.

ANGÈLE JOSÉPHINE MONET LAURENT CHASTIN - TOULOUSE, FRANCE 1968

While Ethan focused on his sketch, she made at least eight or nine stick figures, each one different than the last. "Ta-Da!" She presented her chef-d'œuvre to the young British brunette.

He held her drawing up, observing it and let out an audible laugh. "What?" She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth with a smile.

"This... This is—It's awful." He laughed.

"Oh shut it. I tried my best." She playfully smacked his upper arm.

"Sign it." He said, stifling his laugh. "You really weren't joking."

She picked up a black marker and signed her name at the corner of the smooth paper. She handed it back to him and watched as he continued to finished off his sketch. "How did you get so good at drawing?" She asked him.

He simply shrugged, dropping his shoulders. "Natural talent, I guess?" He closed his sketchbook and set it in front of him. It was pretty much natural talent. When Ethan was a kid, he found himself following his father to art galleries where he took an interest in almost everything that was presented on the walls, he practiced mimicking the paintings until he got it right and could do it on his own. He had a natural talent for drawing, he never even had a teacher or learned it at school. His father thought it was for the poor and that instead, he should become a politician or a lawyer.

She rolled her eyes. "Can I look through?" She asked, tapping her fingers rhythmically against the cover. He nodded carefully and let her pick it up, his hand reached towards the ash tray and lit up his cigarette once again. She opened the sketchbook, revealing the vast drawings and sketches of landscapes, people in parks and some were portraits of people: men, woman, children. His sketchbook was practically fully, with only six pages left. Her eyes travelling across the pages, analyzing each and every drawing. All the blends and mixes of colors, some were painted in. She was in awe. "This is amazing. Can you draw me sometime?"

"Sure!" He laughed, trapping the cigarette above the ash tray.

"Oh my gosh. Is this Alex?" She giggled, looking at one of his recent drawings.

Ethan leaned forward look at his drawing. "I drew it last night." The drawing was of Alexandre smoking a cigarette with his eyes closed. The drawing was soft and hard to read at first, she found it interesting to look at. The drawing showed his loose, fluid figurative sketching style which exuded the artistry of Egon Schiele.

"I love it." She grinned. "Have you talked to him yet?"

He shook his head, handing her the cigarette which she gladly accepted, exhaling the smoke through her nose. "Nope. He's been sleeping all day. What would I even ask?" He chuckled.

She shrugged. "Maybe why did he kiss you?" She stood up from the chair, returning the cigarette to him. "I'll let you figure it out." She gave him a small wave as she made her way back to the villa.

She walked past the hallways, brushing past the portraits and painting, entering the living room to change the records. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud commotion, in the reading room. She popped her head in the room where she found Emily, Daniel, Adrien and Julien who were watching Truffaut's 400 Blows while chatting. The room was clouded with smoke from their lit cigarettes, wine bottles on the floor, glass in their hands and the sound of the TV bouncing off the walls. "What are you guys doing?" She inquired.