Page 47 of Painting Celia

I’m here. See me. Except…that’s scary. I’m afraid to be seen. Be gentle.

These were all truths someone else must have felt before. Everyone in the world had, surely. But how could you draw that? Paint that? How did you say that without clichés?

If she could put herself into art, maybe she wouldn’t have to risk saying things to people. She could just let them look at the art and know her. She didn’t even have to be in the same room. It would be the ideal way to express herself if she could just figure out how.

Her mind drifted along with her body. The water lapped at her, both cold and warm, her back insulated and buoyed, her front chilled by the night air. The contrast raised goosebumps. She existed right now in this wandering place between the water and the stars, feeling them both. It felt lovely.

Maybe she could paint water. Floating. Existing. A leaf on water. Light on water.

She only had to illustrate the feeling of being. Easy.

•••

León set down his charcoal and rubbed his eyes. The second curve battering around his head refused to go onto paper right. He needed a break.

Lights from the pool were wavering gently across the ceiling. Usually, the still pool glowed steadily, but the wind sometimes gave him this little light show as the surface ruffled. He could step out and get some air, maybe sit at the firepit in the dark and feel the breeze.

Sliding the door open, he froze, arrested. Glimmering in the pool in front of him was the curve he’d seen in his head.

Celia! Jesus. Look at her.

She floated on her back, nude, eyes closed, arms out to her sides. Her arms—they made the difference. In the statue, they were raised. Here, her shoulders were relaxed and supported by the water. That curve at her ribs rounded into a fuller, more graceful arch. It was the shape.

Her shoulders, the gentle angle where they met her neck…another curve started speaking to him. Then more of them. Her hip, her wrist…he had to paint this.

Transfixed, he didn’t leave the doorway. Instead, he drank in the fascinating shapes, the rippling aqua light washing over her, dappled touches of orange barely reaching her from the house. The water echoing her shape in organic sweeps of gossamer light and shadow. The serenity of her quiet aimless drift.

Goosebumps flooded his body as her hand lifted to gently drag fingertips through the surface of the water, rousing waves of reflected color.

It broke the spell.

She’d been pure organic shapes until she acted, and suddenly she was real. The scene had a story. Her private moment was no longer private. Any second now, she’d move, turn, flee. She floated in that instant before discovery, naively still before facing this threat of…what? Exposure? Shame?

Her vulnerability struck him in the chest. He had to paint this, tell this story.

He tried to burn the sight of her into his mind before this miracle slipped away.

•••

Celia let her mind float along with her body, imagining the lines she might paint. She could be blue this time, curved. No more straight red lines, no bridge. Turquoise circles, teal scallops, aqua crescents.

Oh, the moon! She smiled to herself.

A crescent moon reflected in blue water. Celestial for Celia. Finally, an idea! Sure, it was a little dumb, but she had to start somewhere.

The breeze whispered over her, making her shiver and her nipples harden painfully. She felt relaxed and revived, but discomfort began distracting her. It was time to go inside. That warm bed with Andrew to snuggle against would feel wonderful. She’d be able to sleep now.

She turned over and slipped under the water’s surface, aiming for the shallow side of the pool. Her hair flowed back, and she came up near the stairs, gasping for a fresh breath.

As the water streamed from her face, she opened her eyes to see León frozen in the doorway, his eyes fixed on her, one hand holding the door. Her mouth flew open, but she didn’t make a sound.

For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence. The water stilled as her movement stopped, calming into quiet waves. Then she shivered involuntarily as the cold struck her again. The water beading on her shoulders felt icy in the faint breeze.

“I’m getting out of the pool,” she said softly.

•••

León flinched as the real world abruptly snapped back into focus.

---