@nigerisms
“I’m not sure I can do this.” she murmured as she dipped her finger into the paint. “I have no artistic talent. It’s one of the things Lorenzo dislikes about me.”
Clarice stared at the blank canvas, wondering what she should paint. Not only did she feel extremely unladylike painting with her hands, she also had no talent with it, although Carlo had insisted this way would bring out her artistic talent. Perhaps if she was artistic, she and Lorenzo would’ve actually had something in common and their marriage wouldn’t have festered into what it was now. But because Clarice hadn’t any skills in art and not much interest in poetry, Lorenzo didn’t feel he could relate anything to her. Anyway, no matter what she did now couldn’t fix her marriage and honestly she was done trying.
“Stop talking about Lorenzo, mia signora” Carlo suggested in a whisper, his hand was still wrapped around hers, the other resting on Clarice’s hip. He grazed his large, velvety lips against the Mother of Florence’s neck with a smile, before searching his way up to her ear. “He lacks of judgement regarding women for sure. I won’t commit the same mistake though.”
The tip of finger was still blue with paint, he noticed. Acknowledging Clarice’s shyness in practicing art, which according to her was not a thing she mastered, he supposed showing her again would release a little bit of tension from her body. The Medici man posed his hand on the canvas and start drawing lines and circles; there was nothing similar to reality in his painting, he left his true essence to spill free from the smallest cracks of his well-built shield and pour into the canvas. “You have no restriction here, mia signora, no leashes. I will welcome as a dear gift whatever things you decide to grace me with.”
