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08. caught twice.
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Painting was something Ivy quite enjoyed.
She enjoyed watching her paint brush stroke against the grain of the white canvas, ruining its purity with color. She enjoyed the warm feeling she felt as a child when she sat on her mother's lap and only knew how to finger paint.
'My oh my, ma petite colombe. You put Da Vinci to shame,' her mother would whisper in her ear.
She'd tickled little Ivy's armpits and Ivy would squirm around and screech. The little girl would twist in her mother's arms and hold her face in her hands— her world in her small hands.
As a baby, Ivy always stared at her mother. Perhaps a deep part of her subconscious knew that her mother would not be around for long. That her mother would slip from Ivy's tight grasp before she could hit the age of one.
Her big eyes would stare at her mother and they would morph into the coffee-brown color that her mother's eyes held. Ivy's pupils would pulsate with each rise and fall of her mother's chest.
Ivy had a connection that was different from the one she had with her father.
She didn't know how she remembered her mother. Babies aren't supposed to remember much of their "childhood" as their brains cant even fully function.
Soleil Bardot was Ivy's muse. And Ivy kept her muse close to her heart, locked away in a locket that lay upon her chest day after day, night after night.
"What're you doing?"
Ivy paused in her steps as she heard a voice behind her. Her canvas was tucked in her armpit and her ratted black case that held her paints, markers, and brushed was clutched in her right hand.
She had snuck out of her dorm after lights out. She took her time tiptoeing around the castle and listening out for prefects circling their shifts around their assigned area. Ivy almost had a run in with Lily Evans, but she was quick to hide behind a wall.
Unbeknownst to her, Lily had seen her wild hair sticking out from behind the wall. She noticed the tight curl that Ivy always twirled around her finger. The redhead simply looked away and continued with her patrolling.
Ivy winced to herself and slowly turned around to see Remus standing before her. He had his arms crossed and a brow raised in suspicion.
She meekly whispered, "Hello Remus."
"Hello, Ivy."
He smiled back at her, but his smile was more mischievous as he had caught her out after hours. He didn't want to get her in trouble, but he did want to mess with her a little bit.
