|Art School Confidential
Author: farkle PM
Bella finds her artistic muse and total embarrassment in person of life model Edward. How can she get him to model for her when he thinks she is a sex-crazed flake? AU-AH, M for nudity, language, lemons. Canon pairings.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Bella & Edward - Chapters: 24 - Words: 139,995 - Reviews: 4,169 - Favs: 4,002 - Follows: 4,546 - Updated: 11-25-10 - Published: 07-11-09 - id: 5208954
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: This is not a guide for seeing RHPS. If you have never been (Virgin! Go see it, and no, watching a video doesn't count) this story is just the highlights for Bella and crew.
SM owns Twilight. The story is mine. I lived it, I keep it.
The whole way up to Santa Monica Boulevard I twisted sideways in the passenger seat of Alice's car so I could glance back and watch Edward following us on his motorcycle. It was a big bike. It seemed almost as big as Alice's Beetle. Alice cranked up The Killers on the car stereo, so I watched his silhouette and headlamp to pop strains of "Read My Mind."
We had to park around the corner from the Nuart Theater but Edward found closer parking for his bike and was already standing at the old-fashioned glass ticket booth when Alice and I walked up. Jasper was also there with Emmett, his bare legs sticking out of a long trench coat, and the three were having an intense conversation. They all looked angry. Edward was raking his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end like he'd been electrocuted, while Jasper and Emmett glared at him. As we walked up, Emmett handed Edward a cell phone and Edward slipped it into his jacket pocket without looking at it.
Alice bounced over and wrapped herself around Jasper's arm. With our arrival, the men abruptly stopped talking. Jasper kissed Alice on the top of her head, but Edward and Emmett turned to stare at me. Edward had a strange look on his face, angry but something more, too.
"Swan!" Emmett boomed, causing a couple of Transylvanians to look over in curiosity, "You're looking hot tonight!"
My eyes were locked on Edward. As Emmett reached out and wrapped me in a smothering embrace, Edward dropped his eyes, his brow furrowing. Why would he be angry? He wasn't angry when we left the house, so I had to figure it had something to do with the heated discussion he'd been having with Emmett and Jasper.
I wanted to ask what was up but Emmett was talking about how the gold Speedo Jasper had given him was mashing his "man bits" and Jasper was rolling his eyes. Edward muttered something unintelligible and disappeared.
"'Bits?'" Jasper laughed. "Emmett, the only way that you have 'bits' in your pants is if it's Frankenstein's dick in there and all the bits are sewn together." We all laughed. Rosalie returned with tickets and then Emmett gripped her with one massive arm and me with the other. Rosalie looked annoyed but I was beginning to figure she always looked that way. I wondered what Emmett had told her about me.
Jasper looked around and excused himself, dragging Alice with him. Edward returned and stood with his hands jammed in the pockets of his leather jacket, looking strangely awkward.
Rosalie peered out from under Emmett's armpit. "Hey, Edward, aren't you leaving town soon?"
Edward's eyes flicked quickly to me as he answered her. "I was planning to leave in two weeks but it looks like I'll be staying a little longer." I felt a thrill run through me, partly fear and partly a strange feeling behind my ribs.
"Oh? Did something come up?"
"Well, you know I'm modeling at the art school, and then Bella has me modeling too. I guess I'll stay as long as Bella needs me." The strange warmth spread from my chest to my belly.
"Really? Bella?" Rosalie asked with a quick look at me and a lifted eyebrow. "What about your ..."
I didn't get to find out the end of that sentence because Jasper returned just then towing Alice and two other people dressed in perfect replicas of Rocky Horror outfits. The man was wearing a leather jacket with leopard lapels and had horrific makeup on his face, including a lobotomy scar on his forehead. The Rocky Horror Eddie looked at Edward and frowned. Edward's wide eyes were locked on the big bloody and fake mark across the man's forehead. Jasper waved at Emmett.
"Scott, this is Emmett, the Rocky I told you about. Can you work him in tonight?" Scott eyed Emmett.
"You have a costume?" he asked Emmett brusquely. Emmett released me and Rosalie to open his coat and show off the gold briefs. Scott nodded. "Yeah, we can work you in. You know the lines?" Emmett shrugged and Scott glowered. "You can do Toucha-Touch Me with Sarah. There isn't much acting in that scene anyway."
"Thanks, man," Jasper said as Scott turned away. His companion, dressed in a huge frizzy wig and maid's costume, pressed a bunch of pamphlets of future events and the theater schedule into our hands and skipped off. I shoved the papers into my purse for later.
Jasper gestured for us to enter the theater but Edward held back and I did too, claiming I wanted a smoke. Jasper lifted his eyebrows at Edward and Edward nodded in return as he turned back to me. If I hadn't seen the earlier tete-a-tete between the guys I wouldn't have thought anything of it but now I was sure something was going on.
I trailed behind Edward as he stepped to the curb and pulled his pouch from his hip pocket. He rolled a cigarette quickly.
A girl dressed up in a white petticoat and striped gauntlets yelled at us. "Hey, don't smoke here! Go down to the corner if you're going to do that."
Edward shrugged and we walked down to the corner. I dug through my little purse until I found my pack of cigs. Edward lit one for me and then his own. We stood on the dark corner, watching the sparse midnight traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard.
"I don't get it," he said.
"Get what?" I worried he didn't want to model anymore. He likely thought I was weird and was going to back out.
"How can Emmett play a part in a movie?" he asked.
"Oh." I was surprised, since I hadn't been expecting that question. "Well, while the movie is going on the cast shadows it, saying the lines and miming the action on stage. Emmett is going to be one of the shadow actors." Edward shuddered.
"Better him than me." He was silent a moment. "Bella? What do they really do to people who haven't seen the movie?" Edward asked, a wary tone in his voice.
I almost laughed. "Sometimes they have a little ceremony. They make all the noobs go up front and they put a big V on your face with red lipstick. Why? Were you really worried you'd get sexed on stage?" Edward shook his head, but his eyes were still a little alarmed. I laughed. "It's not a porno, Edward, it's just a goofy movie. If you want we can hang out here until it starts and make sure you miss the cherry-popping ceremony."
He looked relieved. "That would be good."
Part of me wanted to just attack him right then, touch his lips and run my fingers through his hair. I resisted. Instead I rolled my clove through my fingers and watched the cars roll down Santa Monica.
"So what were you talking about with Emmett and Jasper?" I was being nosy, and I didn't care. I shivered a little. My jacket was decent but not warm enough for the late night in February.
Edward looked out across the street, but I didn't think he was looking at anything in particular. He exhaled smoke and I followed its path past his perfect profile and mad hair. He took another long drag before he sighed and answered.
"They just wanted to know what my plans were," he said quietly, not meeting my eye.
"Plans for what?" I pressed.
"How long I'm going to be staying with them," he said wryly. "They want their sofa back."
I didn't believe a word of it, but he seemed uncomfortable, so I let it pass.
"I'm going in. I think it'll be OK now. Are you coming?" I asked.
"I'll catch up to you in a minute, I have to make a phone call," he said. I nodded and headed in.
Edward missed the de-virginization. When he finally came into the theater the movie had already started and Trixie was singing the opening song. He found us in the second row where Emmett waited for his debut and Rosalie sat frowning at the players on the low platform before the screen. Jasper and Alice were there, making out. Edward sank into the seat next to me and gave me a weak smile.
What is there to tell? It was the Rocky Horror. If you haven't been to see it, it sounds deranged and kinky. It is deranged and kinky, but it's fun. And despite the sex and incest and ambisexuality, it is strangely innocent, a relic of a more childlike time.
I pulled Edward out of his seat for the Time Warp and he bumbled through it with enough good nature. He kept getting the motions mixed up and I laughed at him. Watching Edward do the pelvic thrust really was going to drive me insa-ay-ane. He flinched when Tim Curry appeared on the screen, dressed in fishnets and a corset, and the "Sins" Frank appeared just feet from us in the identical get-up, flashing nipples.
We were all on our feet for Sweet Transvestite, bouncing up and down as Frank said "I see you shiver with Antici-"
"Say It! Say It!" we screamed. Edward stood stock-still. Rosalie was smiling up at Emmett, yelling the words along with us. Maybe she was cooler than I thought.
"-pation!" We all sighed collectively. Edward looked down at me with wonder.
It was about then that the girl playing Columbia spotted Edward in his second-row seat and tried to drag him on stage for Eddie's song, much to the consternation of Scott / Eddie, as well as my Edward. I had to point out the dangers of cute shoe poisoning should my Mary Jane become lodged in her ass. She backed off and Edward shot me a grateful look.
Emmett was enthusiastic in his bit as Rocky, clad only in the tiny gold Speedo suit. I don't know how the darned thing kept him contained but nothing sprang out, much to my relief. He groped "Janet's" tits like they were the first he'd ever held. I knew that wasn't the case. Mine might not be very impressive but they were bigger than Janet's. Even so, Rosalie, she of the truly impressive rack, looked like she might bite through a seat cushion when Emmett disappeared into the tank with the girl playing Janet.
We had a good time. We threw confetti and held up our glow lights. We dealt out our cards of sorrow and cards of shame. At the end Edward turned to me and smiled.
"That was fun. We should do it again sometime," he said. It might have been my imagination but he seemed lighter, less serious. I smirked.
"Once you start doing it, you never want to stop. Do you feel different now that you've had your cherry popped?" I asked and immediately blushed. He just laughed. It was a light and playful sound. His earlier stormy mood seemed to have evaporated in the goofiness of the movie and the shadow actors.
"I don't know, I guess I didn't know what to expect for my first time," Edward smirked, his eyes warm.
"Well, it only gets better the more you do it," I breathed. We were getting close, nearly nose to nose, those intense eyes looking into mine as we leaned towards each other.
"Practice makes perfect?" he asked. My breath caught at how beautiful he was. I wanted to close those few inches and kiss him. He seemed receptive. Perhaps if I made modeling into something more like a date...
"With tonight running so late, why don't we make tomorrow a late session? If you come over at four I can make some dinner for us," I offered.
Edward dropped his eyes. "I don't think I can do it tomorrow. I have to go to Santa Barbara for a couple of days." Although he didn't move, I could feel him withdrawing from me, retreating behind the cool shell.
"Oh." I tried to bury the disappointment that welled up in me. "When will you be back?"
"I'm scheduled to sit for the Tuesday night class, so I'll be free after that."
I thought about my schedule. I had Wednesday morning class but I was open the rest of the day. It was my usual time to paint.
"How about Wednesday afternoon?" I asked.
Edward glowered at the armrest between us, but his voice was casual and gentle. "Yeah, that will be fine. At your house?" He sounded hesitant and I considered. If he was uncomfortable, I'd make it less intimate. We could do this somewhere more public and with less access to a bed. Besides, as much as I liked drawing Edward at home, I really wanted to paint him. Painting meant I needed to be in my studio space, not at home.
"How about at school? I can put up a curtain for some privacy if you like." Edward pursed his lovely lips and nodded. Despite the sense that he was retreating from anything more intimate with me, I wanted badly to touch his lips, feel if they were as soft as they looked.
I might have given into temptation but Jasper and Alice chose that moment to climb over us. They hauled us into the aisle, looking slightly disordered. Alice's burgundy lipstick was smeared all over Jaspers smiling face.
"Let's go get some coffee or a bite," Jasper said, pulling us all close and baring his teeth at the word bite. I nodded. Even with the long day and late hour, I felt hyped, ready to do something more. Emmett and Rosalie agreed, but Edward shook his head, his eyes shadowed again. The storm clouds had moved back in.
"I'm leaving for Santa Barbara. I'd better get on the road tonight. I'll see you all when I get back," Edward said. I noticed Emmett's jaw tighten as Edward spoke but he just nodded his head. Edward glanced around at all of us and his gaze stopped on me. "I'll see you later." He turned and strode up the theater aisle. I watched him vanish through the door to the lobby.
I punched Emmett on the arm. "Why didn't you ever tell me about Edward?"
"I told you about Edward. My baseball buddy, remember?" he asked, frowning at me.
"You told me your 'baseball buddy' was a workaholic geek who never took his nose out of a book ..." I trailed off as I remembered the rest of what Emmett had said. ... he never took his nose out of a book long enough to notice that the prettiest girl in school was in love with him. Emmett was nodding and smiling.
"That would be Edward. He finished college in three and a half years just because he could."
"Wow. I don't think you mentioned him riding a motorcycle, though."
"No? My mom used to call him 'The Fonz' because he was always wearing the leather jacket and riding a bike of one kind or another," Emmett grinned widely and Jasper snickered at the reference. I shook my head. It didn't ring any bells.
"So what were you all arguing about earlier?" I asked. Emmett suddenly looked uncomfortable. Jasper looked away.
"We weren't arguing, I was telling Edward about a call he got at the apartment this afternoon. He didn't have his cell turned on. He needs to deal with some stuff back home."
"His parents called? Why didn't you just give them my number?" I had my cell with me all day. Surely they could have reached him that way.
"It wasn't an emergency, just an old friend. Where's a place open for coffee this late?" Emmett asked abruptly, changing the subject.
The mystery deepens, I thought. If it wasn't an emergency, why was he leaving in the middle of the night? A strange suspicion was forming in my head.
Before I could dwell on it too long, or force Emmett to give me the low-down, Alice grabbed my arm and steered me out the side exit to the right of the stage. As we stepped out into the crisp night, Jasper and Emmett were arguing.
"You won't get a piece in the student show this year, my friend," Jasper said.
"Oh? I think I will. That new steel piece I just finished will definitely make it in, jackass."
"I'm the jackass? That piece is crap! You want to make it a bet?"
"You're on! Loser gets his dick pierced!"
"Aw, Emmett, you shouldn't. You know what a pussy you are about pain!"
"Jasper, the only one in pain will be you."
Alice snorted as we got in her car. I heard Rosalie say, "Are you two idiots seriously going to pierce your dicks over who gets into an art show?"
"Why not?" boomed Emmett. "I'm not going to be the one with a hole in his schlong. Besides, we've done worse. In high school I lost a bet to Edward and electrocuted my nuts."
I laughed all the way to the diner.
At the old coffee shop I ended up sitting beside Rosalie. I was a little worried when she pulled something out of her bag that looked like a sock doing battle with a pack of double-pointed sticks.
"What the fuck is that? Are you knitting?" As soon as the words were out of my mouth I felt vulgar and graceless, but Rosalie smiled at me. She was gracefully holding the silver shiny sticks and doing this weird in and out and over thing with yarn that trailed out of the bag. She wasn't even looking at what she was doing, but I was mesmerized, following the path of the yarn.
"Yes, it's knitting. I'm making a sock."
"One sock? Seriously?" I wasn't going to get my mouth under control as tired as I was but I mentally smacked myself anyway.
"Yes, this is the first sock. I've already made the second sock." It must be the sleep-deprivation and I misheard her, or I am having a serious dada moment. I shook my head and laughed nervously.
"You've already made the second sock? How can you make the second sock first and the first sock second? Is this some kind of zen mind-game?"
"No," Rosalie laughed. "It's a way of preventing second-sock syndrome." Her hands continued to move rapidly: lift, poke, wrap, slide, repeat. "You finish one sock and then you don't feel like making the second. So if I do the second sock first..."
"I see why you're dating Emmett. You're just as deranged as he is."
"I didn't come up with it. It's just knitting humor."
"So why are you making socks? Why not just buy a pair of socks?"
"Why do you make art, Bella? You could just buy a cheap print if you want something pretty on the walls." I began to bristle and then I realized what she was getting at.
"Self-expression, I suppose. Creating something beautiful, something honest about the world. Are you saying socks are art?"
"I don't know that socks are the highest form of self-expression but I certainly feel better having something I made on my feet. And I find the act of creating to be soothing, don't you?"
"Yes, I do," I said. "So did you really teach Emmett how to knit?"
"Yes, he's a natural." Rosalie smirked into her knitting. I wondered if she was really talking about his knitting ability.
The more I talked to Rosalie at the diner, the more I liked her. She was very down-to-earth. I watched, entranced by the way a sock grew almost effortlessly from a piece of string. It was like magic.
As we were leaving the diner I asked Jasper what was going on with Edward. Jasper grumped and hedged before giving me a sad look.
"You and Edward are just friends, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, we're not ..." I gestured ambiguously, but Jasper seemed to understand me.
"Edward's just got some personal things to deal with. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when he gets back."
"Is it ..." I paused. I wasn't sure what I was even trying to ask. "Does this have something to do with me?" I asked. For a moment Jasper looked alarmed, then his jaw tightened and he shook his shaggy blonde head.
"It's nothing, Bella. Edward's just being a moron." And that was all I could get out of Jasper.
It was noon when I dragged myself out of bed on Sunday. I'd had weird dreams about motorcycles and books and Mickey Mouse ears, whatever the hell that was about. I hauled myself to the school studio with the drawings from yesterday, listened to music, painted, and thought about Edward. Perhaps daydreamed about Edward would be more accurate. With the drawings of him tacked to my wall, I let myself wallow in thoughts of his pale smooth skin and crystalline green eyes. Part of me wished I had touched his sleeping face. Even if I had wakened him, the memory would have sustained my fantasies now...
I had ransacked my pockets and purse before leaving the house and found the cookie fortunes, the flyer I was handed at Rocky Horror, the take-out menu from Hu's, and my ticket stub for the movie. I tore the menu and flyer into strips and used gel medium to incorporate them into the painting I was working on. Edward reclined shirtless in a tangle of thorny vines, the scraps making texture of muscle and ligament as I painted over them. The text was barely visible through the paint. I laid Edward's fortune into the wet paint near the bottom, next to a hand. I made sure it remained clear of paint, and could be easily read.
You never find what you seek by looking, but you find what you need where you least expect it.
What did I need? I knew what I wanted, and the strength of desire had made my wants into needs. I wanted fame and recognition. I wanted validation as an artist. I wanted to have made a life worth living, to make the gift of my life worth the sacrifices that others had made for me. The sacrifices of my mother, and of Ashley and June. When I thought about Ashley and June, I went back and changed the background. Instead of a dark drape, Edward now reclined against a background raw as fresh meat. I let the red paint, tinted with green to give it depth, drip and run like blood. He was less like an angel and more like a god, reclining on an altar of sacrifices.
I painted and thought about the hints and mysteries around Edward. The phone call he missed and his running off in the middle of the night right after. His physical distance and refusal of Lauren's advances. Jasper's warning and Emmett's angry glare.
Setting aside both the paintings and the mysteries, I worked on another painting. I used my own fortune and ticket stub as background texture. In this one, Edward retained the angelic visage, and the shadow of wings, but the reds became flames moving up around his form.
I was working on a third painting early in the evening when Jessica arrived. I ignored her, and she me, but after a few minutes of rattling around in her space, I was startled by the noise of her throwing her mobile project into my space. I pulled my ear buds out and stomped over to the dividing line of conte crayon.
"Jessica! What the fuck?" I demanded. Instead of the rude retort I expected, Jessica threw herself on me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and sobbing into my hoodie.
"Oh, Bella! I'm so sorry!" she wailed, and then she flung herself away from me and began picking up her half-assed mobile and smashing it on the concrete floor. I backed away, watching her warily.
Jessica was muttering to herself: "Fuck this shit, fuck it, it's all crap anyway..." and so on in that vein. I started putting things away. I didn't want anything of mine out where she might damage it. I could come back in the morning, early, and finish my paintings. I really didn't deal well with goofy emo freak-out girls. I knew I should be all empathetic and crap, but honestly, a girl crying makes me more freaked out than any guy I know. Everyone should know their limits and drama queen shit is mine. Besides, it's not like we were friendly. Up until now Jessica had always been a complete bitch to me.
I got everything put away and Jessica was ripping stuff off her wall and throwing it to the floor. One stretcher bar cracked from the force of her throw. She was crying in earnest now, tears streaming down her face and she was wailing at the top of her lungs. Mike came skidding around the corner, curious to see what the ruckus was about, and I shrugged at him.
"What's going on?" he asked redundantly, since I'd already signaled I had no clue.
"I don't know, some kind of freak fit," I answered, shrugging expressively.
"What did you do to her?" Eric asked, as he peered over Mike's shoulder.
"Fuck you, Eric! I didn't do anything to her! She was like this when she came in," I retorted.
Just then Jessica turned and flung herself at me again. "I'm sorry," she quavered into my shoulder. I was too short for her to cry into my chest, though by her contortions I thought she might try. "I wasn't feeling good, I'm sorry, Bella! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done it but I was so mad!"
Jessica pushed away from me and with a last sob, she ran off. Eric and Mike looked at me and I just stared back. I had no idea what she was sorry about, other than being weird.
"I swear, I didn't have anything to do with that," I said. Mike and Eric didn't look very sympathetic.
"You didn't turn on your bitch mode for her?" Mike asked coldly. I seethed inwardly. I would have expected better from Mike but maybe I hadn't been the nicest when I dumped him. He thought I was cold hard-hearted. Maybe he was right.
"It's not illegal to be a bitch, Mike."
"You should know, Bella." I glared at him and just gave up.
"Fuck this crap. I'll be back tomorrow." I grabbed my bag and headed out. I drove around a bit on the way home, just to give myself time to calm down. By the time I pulled into the driveway the mystery of Jessica had been pushed to the back of my mind and I was wondering what Edward was doing at that moment.
Alice was making a pot of chicken soup with matzo balls when I came in. I washed up and helped her form the matzo balls while the soup simmered.
"How did the painting go without your model?" Alice asked. I decided to skip the Jessica freak out story.
"Pretty good, I've got at least one painting I think I'll be entering in the student show. We'll see. Where is Jasper?"
"He's getting his work ready for the show, too. He'll be over later." Alice paused. "Do you mind if he spends the night?"
"Jasper? No, I don't mind. You think he's going to stay the night?"
"I asked him if he wanted to and he said he might ..." Alice grinned from ear to ear.
"As long as you're not kicking me out to make room for your hippie boyfriend, I'm cool with it."
"He's just spending the night!" Alice exclaimed, dumping the matzo balls in the bubbling soup.
"I might believe that if I hadn't seen the two of you together. He's going to be moving in by summer."
"Bella! What about you and Edward! When is he going to be spending the night?"
"Hm. Never." I might want him, but he'd been clearly giving "hands off" vibes. Between that and my own nervousness, I just didn't see anything happening.
"Never? He had his shirt off in our living room for you, after you've seen him naked, and you think he's not going to spend the night with you?"
"I don't think he sees me like that. Besides, Jasper said Edward's leaving town, and look, he up and runs off to Santa Barbara."
"What do you care if all you want is to get him naked without the paints? Don't all artists try to fuck their models?"
I snorted. "That's right, baby, I just had you model for me so I could get you into my bed. Don't you want to go Dyke for art school? It's so much cooler." I made smooches in the air at Alice and she swatted at me.
"Gross, Bella. I'll stick with Jasper. Don't you like Edward? When we were at the movie, it looked to me like you two were having a good time."
I sighed. "Seriously, I do like Edward. I'd like him to want me too, but... You didn't see how he shot down Lauren when she asked him out. Then Jessica was all over him and he just seemed scared. I don't think Edward's available," I said, wondering what was going through his head. Was he gay? Was that why Jasper was trying to warn me off? But why not just say it? We certainly knew plenty of gay art students and professors. It's not like sexual orientation was something that had to be hidden around a group of Los Angeles art students. What other reason could he have for turning down the advances of women? Then there were Jasper's enigmatic statements about Edward leaving town and being a moron. I felt like the answer was staring me in the face.
"Well, he's not modeling for those tramps, is he?" Alice arched an eyebrow at me.
"Just because he's comfortable modeling for me doesn't mean he wants anything more," I muttered.
"We'll see," Alice said with an impish wink.
I woke Monday morning with a sureness about Edward. In my sleep all the puzzle pieces fell into place. There was someone else, someone in Santa Barbara. Whether that someone was a man or a woman I wasn't sure, but I felt sure he was in love with someone else, someone who wasn't me.
The day was gray and drizzly. I drove to school carefully. Los Angeles drivers don't know how to drive in even a small amount of rain. I wasn't really worried about someone hitting me in my old pick-up truck but I didn't want to lose traction on the oil-and-water slicked streets and wipe out a bus-stop full of people. Between my revelation about Edward swirling through my head and the crazy drivers on the road, I was emotionally exhausted by the time I reached school.
When I slogged into the 300 studio, I found Jessica's work space in a shambles. Everything was torn up and thrown around, paintings, drawings, projects all strewn around like trash. I had no extra energy to waste on Jessica's drama, not with my own internal struggle.
Setting all my new paintings out against the back wall where I could see them, I contemplated the direction these paintings were taking me. There was real energy and passion in them. It was Edward: that man exuded sensuality. The sight of him in my paintings was both wonderful and sad. I would have the paintings of him though his heart was elsewhere.
I picked out two paintings, the one with the fortune and the one where it looked like Edward was resting on raw flesh, to enter in the student show. I was grateful to be an acrylic painter. If I was working in oils, the paint would still be wet and unmovable. I left the rest out while I quickly photographed the two paintings against the gray drape. Then I took the two paintings off to the gallery to submit them.
While I was filling out the forms and taping them to the backs of the two paintings Professor Berty came in to see what was being submitted. He looked over the two paintings and gave me a smile and nodded in approval, like I had seen him do to Seth more than once. Normally Berty frustrated me with his fussiness and repetition, but that one simple sign from him put a smile on my face. It was like a single thin ray of sunshine through the storm clouds of my confusion.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. I'd love to hear more RHPS stories. Have you ever been in a cast? I have, once, and it cemented my conviction that I should never be allowed to act. Sing, maybe, act, definitely not.
For any more discussion, come visit the thread for this story on the Twilighted AU-AH forum. I've posted a link on my profile.
Thank you to MrsDazzled and Irritable Grizzzly, my wonder-betas.