“ colors never used to matter yet now I find myself wondering which one you’d like best …” @hwei RAHHHH
@altarbled
there is something of a smile dancing at the corner of his lips, the soft sound of his brushes movements across the canvas only broken up as she speaks, which is with ease to bring his attention to her even if eyes do not leave the artwork at hand. the imagery is simple, their surroundings au natural, yet he wove flourishing flowers and little spirits into its space, a splash of color amidst the gloom of the quiet church-esque building.
❝ you ask of my favorite. ❞ he hums out in thought, the internal combination of astonishment and touched blending shades of woven purple and blue in the wide eyes of his, still so concentrated on the art before him. ❝ that is like asking a mother which of her children are her favorite. or, her least. ❞
one final swish of the brush brings forth the copious alterations he made to their scenery 'pon canvas to life around them. sprigs of lively vines and leaves dance up the walls, almost firefly like little spirits dance around the open space, flowers bloom even from the cracks. it is then that his attention is finally turned fully upon her, something of a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
❝ they all hold their own meaning and grandeur, in a sense, how could i play favorites? they all make what i see come to life. ❞ he pauses, eyes flickering up and down her before returning to the unnatural showing of his painting coming to life around them.
❝ but, cute thing to wonder on. ❞