The Unknown Artist - Part 5

Author's Note: If you haven't read the previous parts of this beautiful story, be sure to start from the beginning! Check out the links below. This is a collaborative story between me and Rowan Finley, an amazing storyteller and writer!

The Unknown Artist - Part 5

“So you’ve killed people before?” I asked, pretending to accuse him like a detective would.

“Well they do say if looks could kill…” Eddie joshed approving of my playful bantering.

Eddie’s paint brush felt oddly familiar, similar to one she favored in her own collection of brushes. Something that quickly grows for artists alike. She used what paint was left smeared across the coarse hairs as she used a light hand blending their techniques as one cohesive inspiration.

“You’re kind Eddie. Inviting me to paint here with you, to be a part of “Obscurity.” Shiloh piped up, breaking the silence and the sensation that Eddie was intently watching her.

“Of course Shiloh, I could never deny my muse.” He said with a dark grin.

Peeking over my shoulder with a flirty side eye, I couldn’t help but begin admiring his masculine perfection for a moment. “Calm down Shiloh! Compose yourself!” She screamed in her head, arguing with a sensation she never really imagined or met before. Something strong, invoking a deep emotional tug. Blinking hard, and trying to pull the corners of her smile down a little more, she focused on painting again. “Let thy emotion lead thy hand.” Reciting the familiar line her art teacher in middle school preached to them in her dramatized french accent.

Eddie whispered in Shiloh’s ear, “I’m so glad you chose to stay…” his breath heavy and low as it tingled the fine little hairs on my neck and ear. I felt his body shadowing mine. And as he spoke, I couldn’t help but let my head lean back on his chest. His head swooping down to kiss my forehead. “Paint my muse. Do not let me be a distraction.” He whispered as I smiled and continued painting on the large canvas again. Only now, Eddie followed my every move. His warm hands caressing me, one on my hip, the other on my arm holding the palette of colors. His butterfly kisses danced across my skin as he pulled me into his frame.

“Right, you’re not distracting me at all…” I joked as I found a pausing point and spun on my heels gently poking him with the brush and palette. “Your turn…” Shiloh whispered through fluttered eyes and a low humming tone, even though she was unfamiliar with it herself, as if Eddie caught her breath.

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Eddie responded with a raspy need in his voice as he took the brush and palette from me and stepped towards the canvas. I tried to peek around the edge of the canvas when he said “No peeking.” With a teasing tone.

Shiloh sat on the floor unsure of this new sensation that seemed to be taking control of her and her thoughts. The way she was mesmerized by Eddie’s calculated strokes of the brush, and how he gently smeared paint along the canvas as if every fine detail mattered. The same way Shiloh took him in, the way his muscles flexed at the slightest movement. The way his brow furrowed when he focused intently on the subject.

Shiloh couldn’t help but recall how Eddie spoke about how he was obsessed with her. How he didn’t feel good enough for her. How his insecurities pulled him behind a canvas where he painted his truest and purest emotions. The way he exposed his heart through his masterpieces was beautiful and vulnerable. Shiloh felt similar insecurities even now. Especially with Eddie's massive transformation from middle school. Allowing herself to be compelled by a sensation of impulsive reactions. She slowly stood from the wooden floor and sashayed slowly towards Eddie who was currently lost in a vulnerable state of expression as the brush violently swiped across the canvas. Her heart pounding, her thoughts blanking only responding to the heat that rose from her veins and how the fluttering wings in her chest propelled her steps in his direction without hesitation. Eddie must have sensed her behind him as he slowly brought the palette to the ground and let the brush slip from his hand, meeting her with a stormy and needy gaze. “I thought I said no peeking?”

“I couldn’t help myself.” Shiloh’s breathy response attempted to hide her shakiness.

“You flatter me, my muse.” Eddie said in a low husky voice as our arms intertwined. The way his forehead pressed gently onto mine and our lips brushing past one another as sparks began to ignite. One of his hands became lost in my hair and the other gripped the rounded curve of my hip for stability. My hands roamed across his back and my body pinned against his rocky abdomen. “Eddie…” I breathed heavily, eager for him to move in, forcing the meeting of our lips. Expecting a heated rush and push in the heat of the moment, I was surprised to feel a light kiss instead. As Eddie raised his hand from my hip to cup my chin, my body felt weightless as we continued to exchange light kisses, each one growing in intensity until our bodies began this push and pull. And our lips yearn to meet again and again, reluctant to let go from each kiss.

“Shiloh…” Eddie whispered steadying himself, still pressing my body close to him. My head sinking back into his firm hand still tangled in my hair, as his other hand kept my chin lifted to force our eyes to meet. His eyes were dark and stormy with a needy desire. It was enticing, how he managed to make me feel so cherished. “Yes?” I whispered thankful to catch some air, but yearning to return to the passionate fire between us.

“Be honest with me, do you feel this way when you paint?” He asked somewhere between intrigued and serious. It was something I’ve never experienced before, so how was I supposed to answer him? Although, I did find myself painting more wildly, more free on this shared piece of canvas.

“I suppose now I do, yes.” A slight grin tugged a corner of his perfectly plump lips. “Always surprises from you, my little muse.” He giggled as he pressed into a deepened kiss. My thoughts melted away as if they ceased to exist. My body conformed to his guiding hands, cradling my head and matching my gaze as he lowered me to the floor. “Don’t move.” He said as if reluctant to leave. I heard some shuffling of sorts, and the familiar sound of a brush gliding across canvas. A few minutes passed by until the silence was broken.

“I’m sorry, but you know all too well of that sudden stroke of brilliancy we as artists have.” Eddie declared, “There…” He breathed. Stepping away, with a look of genuine pride in the piece sitting before him. What did he add? What piece awaited the bare gallery wall for tomorrow?

“What brilliant detail did you add?” I asked him amused by his sudden inspiration.

“Have you learned nothing tonight?” He turned to me stunned, as if I was unaware of everything that transpired. He was quick to close the gap between us, wrapping me into his strong arms…

“I know you’re feeling unsteady. Stumbling across this wooden floor as if drunk from my lips. The only question is why? Why did you choose to stay?” He asked as if seeking validity.

“Well you did promise not to kill me…” I giggled, “Speak plainly Shiloh.” He pleaded, searching my eyes. I was caught off guard, how could I resist a man who was so passionately in love with art like I was. Someone I knew all along but never understood. Someone who pulled me into one of the biggest decisions of my life and promised me space on gallery walls. Not to mention the way I feel as if I am drooling when I look at him, the way my heart lulls me into his arms and my lips lift seeking his. The way I melted when his eyes seeked my soul, and the way my ears perked when he said my name. The mystery that was woven in endless layers awaiting to be discovered before me. How do I tell him that?

“How could I resist?” I breathed, hopeful that my answer would be sufficient for him, at least for now. “I’m irresistible?” He chuckled, his gaze dropping to my lips wet in desire.

“Kiss me…” I begged as my lips curled up towards his. “I must refrain. At least until you see the final obscurity piece.” The final obscurity piece? He motioned towards the canvas that we painted together. In awe of the beautifully painted woman shrouded in a long velvety red dress. The only color on the canvas stands out from the black and white paint. Shiloh’s mouth was agape and her jaw nearly dropping as she faced what looked like a mirror. But there were no reflections on the artwork, it was simply what appeared to be a portrait of her. “It’s…me.” Shiloh whispered in awe. “You helped design the backdrop, the way you painted the varying hands around her.” He pointed out a small detail I overlooked as my image was centered. Some of the hands were extending from the portrait of Shiloh, others pressed against her. “It’s a perfect end to this collection, and a neat way to present you as the next featured artist.” He declared as he hugged me from behind, his chin nestled atop my shoulder.

“But I chose to stay? I chose Obscurity? I chose you?” I said getting louder in confusion with each question, in utter disbelief. “Calm down my muse.” Every time he referred to me as his muse, it put me a little more at ease, a cute nickname I secretly enjoyed hearing, especially from him. “Obscurity isn’t just about me now.” He whispered as he spun me around to face him properly, his fingers pulling my chin upwards gently. “Then what?” I asked as his gaze gave me a fiery high, the air thickening with heat. “It’s about us now…” And before I could respond, he led me back to the closest wall for support as he baraided me with kisses, our bodies unsatiated from earlier.

“Paint with me Shiloh, forever and a day?” He asked between half bitten kisses on my lips, a moan escaping every now and then. “Forever and a day?” I responded playfully as his lips tickled my neck, and he whispered back “That’s all I ask.” As we kicked over an open gallon of paint from the heated dance we began.

Although they barely knew each other, the flaming passion for art and one another was nearly impossible to ignore. They spent the rest of the night, painting more than art.