Belief II: Beauty
by Ekai Ungson

DISCLAIMER: I don't own it. If I did I wouldn't have given CCS a bitin (hanging) ending. Mou. ^-^

DEDICATION: The sweet JM, my one love. Thanks for the never ending support to "If Only For A Day" although I bet that it's one of your biggest frustrations because I take sooooo LONG to upload. Er.. anyway. This ExT is for ya. Enjoy.
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"Beauty is truth; truth, beauty;" he murmured. "That is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

He then looked at the woman on his easy chair, bathed in sunlight, surrounded by swatches of brightly colored fabric, spools of thread, and beads.

Her raven hair was kept to one side by a blue ribbon. Her head was bent on her work, her violet eyes intent on what she had in her slender hands.

Blue. He loved her in blue, as she was now.

In fact he loved her in anything at all, because no matter what she wore she was still beautiful.

Beauty. Hers was... ethereal. He'd tried to capture it many times, beginning several years ago, in clay, in canvas, in marble, in paper, in film. But he could never fully reproduce her.

He didn't know why, before, why he had been so obsessed in catching her beauty and trying to make something that equaled it. He even tried to recreate her beauty in music he wrote, tried to find words that would bring it meaning. Still futile. The music captured only a part of her, the way all the artworks captured only a portion of her true worth, and not all of her the way he so wished.

There was something, something in the curve of her smile, something embedded deep in her amethyst eyes, something in the way her raven hair flew with the breeze, something in her soft, sweet voice he could not get enough of, something he wished to attain, to watch forever, something about her he wished to pay homage to.

Something in her he wanted to love for all eternity.

So he married her.

"You'd do a lot better if you stopped staring at me so," she said, smiling, breaking into his thoughts.

"I like staring at you," he answered unabashedly, watching as a blush rose to her cheeks as he knew it would.

"I'd figured as much," she retorted winningly. Even when embarassed she could still salvo him. "But really. What do you see?"

He sat back, his eyes still on hers. "The most beautiful woman on earth."

Her blush deepened. "And I'm supposed to believe that?"

"You can believe what you want to believe," he answered. "All I know is I married the most beautiful woman on earth. and it's the truth."

"Oh, then you have philandered," she quipped. "You married me AND the most beautiful woman on earth. Where is she? I'd love to meet her."

He chuckled. "I believe you've met. And I think you know her very, very, well."

She laughed softly. "Is that right?"

"That's right."

He had memorized every curve of her, every line, both with his eyes and his hands. And still he discovered parts and planes of her he had not seen before. He longed to understand the enigma she was, to know her truth.

He loved her, though, all of her.

She released a whimper, and he looked up.

"What happened?" he asked. Already then he was rushing to her.

"I pricked my finger again," she pouted as she raised her finger to her lips. "I should be so used to this. Mou."

He almost laughed at her childishness. He knelt before her. "Here. Let me see that."

She let out her hand. He chided her. "What have you been making, anyway?"

His eyes went to her lap, where a small white dress lay, accented with blue ribbon and a ridiculous amount of lace. "A baby's dress?" he asked incredulously.

"I couldn't find anything else to make, really," she replied.

He kissed her fingertips. "You want a baby, don't you?"

She nodded slowly. "But-- you know-- it's all right if we wait, I mean..."

And this from a woman who had been pouting childishly just a few minutes ago.

"Why wait when we can make one right now?" he asked.

"Right now? As in, NOW?" she sounded horrified. "It's broad daylight, if you haven't noticed."

"Who cares?" he asked, raising his lips to hers.

She laughed against his lips. "I suppose you're right... who does care?"

He loved her, all of her, her as a child, as a woman, and soon, a mother.

And he attained her beauty, and made it his.

Her beauty, it did not lie in her skin. It delved deeper, to the depths of her heart, her very soul.

And he had found the true beauty he sought.

--End

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AN: This is my favorite out of the belief series. Inspired by O-Town's "The Painter". Don't know it? Go out and buy a copy! Weally good song....

Jaa!