Ineffable - S.REID

05

・゜゜・．ONE WEEK LATER .・゜゜・

"I have an extra ticket, are you sure you don't want to come too?" Clara asked Garcia as they both finished off their mugs of tea, following a rather riveting  discussion about both their plans for the evening.

"I'm sorry pumpkin I really am, I just can't cancel the plans I already have," Garcia responded, looking genuinely sorry that she had made such plans only a few evenings beforehand. She so deeply wanted to be able to experience a walk around a gallery with Clara, as on many occasions she had spoken about how it was one of her favorite things to do and who were best friends if they didn't want to experience their friends' favorite things with them?

"No I get that, nevermind then," she smiled reassuringly, trying desperately to hide the disappointment she felt somewhere in the deeper depths of her mind. "Galleries are just as fun on your own and with good music. We'll go some other time?"

"Definitely! I'd love to see your art world."

Clara laughed softly as she stood, taking a piece of candy from the jar by the door before she opened it, "Call me later and tell me how the date goes?"

"Can't miss out on the post date ritual," Garcia grinned.

-

Clara, as soon as she had changed out of her work clothing and into something a lot more comfortable (a thick jumper from a thrift shop), headed to the art gallery which she had passes for that evening. They had been given to her by a friend she met for coffee every monday, just simply to discuss art as they could no longer attend. She, from the instant she walked into the vast art filled room and turned on her prepared playlist for the event, was in her absolute element. Being alone had its perks. She could stay at a painting for as long as she wanted, not wondering if the person beside her was getting bored. She didn't have to spend time explaining the painting and its origins, if she knew the artist's background. And most of all, the peace alone with her art focused thoughts was an indescribable beauty she would keep in her clutches for as long as humanly possible.

She wondered for hours, noticing how eventually the lights in the gallery were all turnt on and the numbers of people dwindled down to the alone few and those quiet couples on dates. Clara made the conscious effort to avoid those on dates, not wanting to see something that would send her perfect evening into a spiral. She found that seeing love, or the very beginnings of it happening, set off her distaste for how her life had lacked so much due to her job.

She felt a tap on her shoulder, the softest tap possible but enough to have her turning around. She smiled instantly and untucked the earbuds from her ears, swiftly turning off the playlist as someone far more interesting had chosen to appear. "What are you doing here?"

"I like galleries at night," he shrugged, glad that she wasn't too annoyed by his interruption. Truth was, Spencer had clocked onto Clara the second he walked into the building. He just didn't know whether to approach her or not, he spent fifteen minutes weighing up his options. Eventually he settled on talking to her, knowing he would probably regret it later if he did not. And it was mostly better to regret saying something then not saying a word at all. "It's quieter so there's less pressure to move from painting to painting."

She smiled, having had that exact thought earlier whilst moving between paintings. She only had a few left in the room, having gone completely around the circle as intended. She could feel the cold night breeze under her jumper and wished she had brought a coat. "I didn't know you even liked this type of art."

"What's not to like?" Spencer responded then fell into what work called his rambles. She loved listening to his impressions of the piece in front of them and the rather extensive knowledge that he had on the artist; she wondered if his home was so full of books it was hard to move. After a few minutes, after he had perhaps realized himself, he trailed off and cleared his throat, "But you're an artist so you probably already knew that..."

She raised a brow, confusion flooding her eyes. She hadn't told anyone that yet, simply preferring to keep it quiet as showing people her artwork was not something she never thought would occur. "How'd you figure that out?"

"Paint on the side of your face in the mornings, you put paint brushes behind your ear," he admitted with a slight pinkness to his cheeks, hidden excellently by the change of his focus from her to the painting. 

She chuckled softly, glancing down to the floor where she noticed that they both wore converse. His black, hers dark green. "Can't hide anything from you, can I?"

"Technically you hid your name from me for two years and sixty five days."

"And I did do that exceptionally well," she laughed once more, this time accompanied. And that soft sound where the two of them hid their joint laughter from everyone but themselves was enough to turn her stomach into knots.

-

Clara could not believe that a mere forty five minutes later, she and Spencer stood in the middle of her art studio. Her studio was supposed  to be a bedroom off of her downstairs living room but the windows were just so large and bright that she could not pass up the opportunity to use it as her studio instead of the dank office upstairs. It wasn't as if anyone would be living there anyway. Spencer was silent, just taking in his surroundings whilst Clara wondered why she kept the room so incredibly messy. Balls of paper spilled out of a full waste pin, paint splattered brushes and pallets littered every surface surrounding her easel and the current work perched on top of it. Her stands of finished pieces were cluttered and now seemed to be without a system, even though she could have sworn they did beforehand. Just as she was about to make excuse after excuse to explain the mess, her phone blared from in the living room. "Crap, that's probably Garcia. She's back from her date," she rather hurriedly announced, going to pick up the phone.

"Did you want me to leave?" Spencer called as she opened the door, stopping her in her tracks. She turned and shook her head softly.

"No, that's okay, this won't take a second. Feel free to look around," she smiled then walked out of the door, shutting it behind her.  He remained still, just listening as she picked up the phone on the side table in her living room and began to talk to Garcia happily. He took that chance to take a real look around the room that shone with every aspect of her personality. It felt rather intrusive really, as this room seemed to be where she spent the most time and looked as if it reelected the inner parts of her mind. He looked through the finished pieces, noticing patterns. Most of them were happy, full of color and light and without hidden meanings. Then he turned to another rack and found art that greatly juxtaposed those. The ones that were happy on the surface, but as he looked deeper he could see the darker sides to them. The reflection of their work, her time undercover, all shrouded in pops of color to hide it all the way. Truly magnificent pieces of pure emotion, emotion that had him slightly concerned.

"What's so interesting about that one in particular?" she asked abruptly, having watched him stare at a particular painting for a few moments. She could recognise it from the paint dripped on the back of the canvas, she liked to test colors just to make sure they were how she would want them to appear.

"There's just so much going on, in symbolism and the actual painting,"

She smiled softly, feeling an indescribable joy at the idea that her art could be enjoyed and interrupted as the art in galleries often was. Clara moved across the room slightly, effortlessly weaving around the mess as she had the room committed to memory, until she stood next to him. "You know I never thought i'd show anyone from work these," she whispered, staring longingly at the various mistakes on the painting that he stared at so intensely.

"Not even Garcia?"

She shook her head, "I love the girl entirely but I don't think she'd understand them on the level I assume you do from the look on your face." 

"I don't want to ask Clara but every day that passes I get more and more curious about what you did... What you saw undercover," he sighed softly, concern overpowering any intrigue in the cases he may have had in the beginning of knowing her. He now, as her friend, was just concerned as to how it was all affecting her, not the actual events that had occurred. 

"I will tell you someday," she paused, smoothing away some of the tension within the room with a soft laugh. "Possibly with a bottle of gin and when we don't have work the next day."

He chuckled, liking the idea of that conversation just a little too much. "Promise?"

She dropped her voice to a whisper, "Promesso."