When We Fell Again...

Artsy Endeavors

Hi Guys! This is the next part. This might be a little bit of a filler to explain all of the build up before the next part which would be the big reveal. Hopefully, ya'll still like it! Please keep voting and commenting! I love reading your comments and suggestions!

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 Artsy Endeavors

Om was packing up his work for the evening ready to head out, when his boss Mr. Portman knocked on his door. Om looked up at the short, bald man and sighed. What was he upto now?

"Hi there, Mr. Portman, what can I do for you?"

Om asked putting his lunch box of half-eaten salad back in his backpack.

"Omkara, I need your financial status report for the upcoming project and the budget checks for the marketing department so that we can pacify the client."

Om ran a hand through his hair before facing the man himself. He had forgotten about the marketing checks because he had been a little too busy working on his own launch at the Gallery. But, how do I tell him?

"Umm, Mr. Portman, I think we were too engrossed in the project plan that we forgot to update the team on the budget." and before the old man had a chance to speak, Om quickly moved on. "I promise I'll get it out to them first thing in the morning."

Mr. Portman looked at him for a second and then nodded. "First thing tomorrow, Om." he restated.

Om nodded and turned to put his laptop into his back when he felt Portman's stare on him going on a little too long.

"Anything else, Mr. Portman?"

Portman stared and then blinked. "Is everything okay, Om? You seem distracted."

Om's head sneakily conjured up the image of Gauri laughing and smiling as she jammed to 'Power' by Little Mix, before he shook his head and blinked to get the image out. Gauri does not distract me, he reassured.

"Nope. Just been a busy week. I'll get them out tomorrow, I promise." Om assured before patting the old man's shoulder and heading out of the office.

Once out, he sighed in relief and smiled as he powered up his car and drove back to the apartment. Time for some real work now, he thought.

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An hour later, Om was in the midst of scurrying to finish his first look for the Gallery. He had a few pieces that he still had unfinished and packed away in the back corner, but one concept kept running the laps of his wayward mind refusing to stop. The exact color of hazel is what I want to paint, he thought picturing exactly the piercing light that would illuminate the eyes and flow into the colors making them shine on his canvas. The eyes would face upward with the peek of sun shadowing her face as the colors defined and caressed her form.

He could see the vision clearly and the passion to etch it permanently on the white space in front of him fueled the energy he needed to finish his work before the big opening at the Gallery. Smiling, he turned to his front door. It was almost as if he could see her in her apartment scurrying about the kitchen trying to cook the perfect dinner for herself while she studied. Thank you Gauri, he whispered in his head. She had loaned him the inspiration to push through his fatigue and paint her eyes. She was the strength that propelled his brush to the canvas. And whether she knew it or not, she was the reason he smiled a mystic smile as he continued to get every detail of his vision in a place where everybody could see it. Everybody would see it, he thought proudly as he continued working into the wee hours of the night.