"You bought me for a night, you don't own me."
"Then why did you scream my name like I was yours?"
Silk Sheets
-a novel about a girl who sees herself only as worthy as the pleasure she can give someone else-
NOT A Y/N STORY NOT A SHIPPING STORY NOT...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Kiss me sweet and light a candle Oh, my darlin', take me now For the first time, this isn't painful I feel like an angel in white sheets"
Love Looks Pretty on You - Nessa Barrett
❄️
The day that Celine had been dreading had come.
Tomorrow Jimin would look at portfolio, and she still hadn't started the final piece.
She'd moved all of her art supplies into an empty room in the penthouse. Jeongguk finally agreed, as a peace offering, for her to use it as such.
The easel Jimin bought her was partially shading her from the light. Her outline mocked her, casting her likeness across the blank canvas.
(A/n since none of you read the 40 disclaimers I put up on my board and also at the beginning of chapters, I'm interrupting your reading time to say I'm editing silk sheets. )
Her old gray tshirt was covered in paint, and yet not a single stroke of genius came to her.
The stress of her relationship, the trauma from her family's past—it all came to a head. Garbled the creativity in her mind instead of allowing it to flow.
She didn't know how to start, so she lined twelve of her pieces across light-washed wood.
One a golden sun, turning into that of a moon. Hands holding up both and bringing them together. Filled with a starry sky. A rose, painted with pain staking detail. Petals navy and white specks representing the cosmos. Bones, darkness surrounding the ivory. Blood dripping across the page.
And so on.
But Celine wanted to show that she didn't always paint in misery. A portrait would be a nice edition, but of whom?
Not herself. God, and she would never be able to paint Mia without wanting to...she wouldn't even go there in her mind.
Her parents. Her brother, that refused to text her back? Faces melded together like burnt plastic. Without enough detail, enough humanity.
Celine gave up on raw dogging an idea without any help, and grabbed her speaker. Laying down on the middle of the floor she put on her favorite playlist and coasted, sound waves echoing around like a lapping sea.
Took a selfie of her outfit, making sure not to share her face, along scattered paint brushes and one of her pieces by her head. Went to instagram and added a melodic song to the background.
