@Katariina_NG herself between him and the currently drying artwork. He wondered, very briefly, if her pale skin would match the constellations he felt >
@Katariina_NG he had pictured her there. That was why the painting, and his own feelings, didn't feel complete until she had breezed in and implanted >
@Katariina_NG belong in the center of his painting. The center of his world. That was perhaps why he had left so much black in the center. Subconsciously>
@Katariina_NG had intended and yet didn't realize until he saw her standing in front of the giant tarp. She belonged, and he had meant it. She truly did >
@Katariina_NG looking at the painting. It had been morning for hours but she had brought the sun with her, floating into his painting as every bit as he>
@Katariina_NG Katariina or a burglar. He didn't know which one would make him more delighted to see, but his question was answered upon seeing her >
@Katariina_NG covered the flat, surrounding him as he stared at the ceiling above him and daydreamed about -- and then the stairs creaked. It was either >
@Katariina_NG He was wired, though. He showered and pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants, letting his hair air dry, and collapsed in bed. His paintings >
@Katariina_NG of exhaustion one gets when they're so tired they can't sleep, and they begin to get irritated at their own bodies for refusing to relax. >
@Katariina_NG Kat would ignore it and come in. And he dragged his feet back up the stairs, exhausted. He was tired everywhere. Frustratingly so. The type>
@Katariina_NG that it was morning, he had went downstairs and unlocked the joke shop, but left the closed sign up so nobody unwanted wandered in. He knew>
@Katariina_NG "You look as if you belong there," Lysander walked into the studio behind Kat. As soon as he had realized he had finished the painting, and>