Canary, sing (boyxboy)

[3] The painter

The painter

A couple was walking down the street, dodging carriage-wheels and the ragged children rushing after one another. The young man was telling his female companion to watch out for them, in case they attempted to pick-pocket her.

She just nodded under her cream and orange lace-trimmed bonnet that hid her hair that had been tied-up into a bun.

The couple continued walking, with their arms linked at the elbows, until they stopped at their destination.

"I wanted to take you out to a café, instead of the boring old studio", the man explained, as he pulled-up a chair for the lady. She smiled to show that she appreciated the gesture but stared at the chair, puzzled as to why the man had not yet sat down. Was she doing something wrong?

The man chuckled,"You can sit down first".

"Oh, sorry", the lady ducked her head, and her grey-blue eyes flickered with embarrassment.

"Don't be", the man said as he sat down with a smile. "You're always so . . . apologetic. Are you all like that, because I get the feeling that it's just you?"

The woman just shyly crossed her ankles under the metal-frame chair, her hands sitting in her lap. Her attention quickly fell to the green glass sitting on the table. It was a beautiful glass-blown vase with an ornate floral pattern around the mouth, at which the long stem of a yellow sunflower leaned upon.

"Pretty, isn't it?", the man was glad he had chosen this cafe for its deco. Not that the coffee was too bad either.

"Yes . . . a beautiful Jord-green . . ." the lady, who had now taken her bonnet off, muttered in agreement. She still kept her peach scarf on.

"Haha, I think you meant maybe jade-green?", the man suggested, trying not to stare at his companion's flour-white hair, as he almost always did, whenever he got the chance.

"No, definitely Jord-green", the white-haired lady looked the man in the eyes with a warm smile.

. . .

Sorry that was short