Shades Of Possession

Ch: 1

Third Person's Pov:

The fluorescent lights of the art studio buzzed overhead, casting an unflattering glare on the blank canvas before Farheen. She gripped a paintbrush in one hand, the other resting on her hip as she scowled at the offending surface.

"Ugh, you're as uncooperative as a toddler refusing to eat their vegetables," she muttered, poking the canvas with the brush handle.  A glob of crimson paint defied gravity and dribbled down, leaving a mocking streak. 

Farheen sighed dramatically, flinging herself onto the worn armchair tucked in the corner of her studio. This creative block felt like a stubborn weed, its roots firmly lodged in her brain, refusing to be budged.  Just when she was about to declare defeat and raid the fridge for a motivational ice cream sundae, her phone chimed with an incoming call.

A glance at the screen revealed Azhar's name, a warmth spreading through her chest despite her artistic woes. With a resigned flick of her wrist, she answered the call.

"Hey gorgeous," his voice washed over her, laced with a hint of amusement. "Still wrestling with that masterpiece?"

Farheen snorted. "More like wrestling with a blank brick wall. I swear, the canvas is actively repelling all attempts at colour."

"Sounds like your muse needs a little coaxing," he chuckled. "What's got you so frustrated?"

She recounted the evening's struggles, her voice tinged with mock despair. Azhar listened patiently, occasionally interjecting a comment or playful question that made her smile despite herself. 

"Maybe take a break?" he suggested gently. "Go for a walk, clear your head. Sometimes inspiration strikes when you least expect it."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Big Shot Businessman," she teased. "You don't have to stare at a stubborn canvas for hours on end, hoping a masterpiece magically appears."

"Hey, I have my fair share of creative battles," he countered playfully.  "Dealing with clients can be like wrangling a herd of rampaging goats sometimes."

Their conversation flowed easily, filled with shared laughter and playful banter.  Farheen found herself feeling lighter, the frustration of the blank canvas fading away. Maybe a break and a friendly chat were just what her creativity needed.

"Thanks, Azhar," she said sincerely as the call neared its end.  "You always seem to know how to chase away the art gremlins."

"Anytime," he replied, his voice warm. "Now go do something fun and recharge. And hey, who knows, maybe you'll wake up tomorrow morning with a masterpiece already on the canvas."

Farheen hung up the phone, a smile lingering on her lips. Perhaps Azhar was right. A break might be just what she needed. With a renewed sense of optimism, she rose from the armchair and headed towards the window, gazing out at the twinkling city lights.  The world outside seemed full of possibilities, and  a spark of inspiration flickered in her mind.

Stepping away from the window, Farheen grabbed a worn leather jacket and tossed it on.  The frustration might not be completely gone,  but the conversation with Azhar had replaced it with a playful energy.  She wasn't ready to give up on the painting just yet.

"Alright, canvas," she declared, brandishing a charcoal pencil with a mock menacing grin.  "Let's see who wins this round."

With newfound purpose, she began sketching on the canvas, lines flowing more freely than before.  Ideas that had been elusive earlier started to come together, fueled by the conversation with Azhar and the renewed sense of determination.