Boss? Jayme wasn’t sure how he felt about being called that. His brother and mother certainly never called him that, and if they did, it was usually his brother, and it was meant jokingly. He always associated the word with those men who were in charge of running those big companies and factories, those people at the very top. Heck, he had his own boss. Right now, at least, it was the Collier’s magazine editor. Jayme was certainly not at the very top.
He was now outlining Mr. Bathory’s clothes. “Actually, I think my work would distract me from you, but it’s still quite alright. If you can’t think of anything to say, I don’t mind that either.”
He was silent at first, detailing the seams and folds in the other man’s coat. “Ah… I think it’s a bit more depressing than that.” He moved on to the pants; the folds underneath this knees and around his hips. “I delved into art when I was… a young child, I think. I did not have many friends…” he felt silent again, immersed in drawing his collar. Then, he looked up to study how the folds worked on Bathory’s raised arm. “No one seemed to have time for me, not even my brother sometimes, but I was alright with that. I found ways to entertain myself. Drawing and art happened to be one of those.”
He looked back down to draw. After adding more details to the cat’s fur, he looked up again and asked, “Do you think you can model the surprised expression you saw in the thumbnail?”
Neci tried to not relax himself. Usually when he listens to others, he faces them so he could listen better. It was just the two of them though, but he is still happy to be talking comfortably with his boss. Never did he imagine such a thing to happen. His heart tugged at hearing what Mister Ashton said. "You are a wonderful artist. Sure, it might be depressing, but I think that it is worth it. You are a kind person and I think you will go far with your art. Sir, you surely will not be alone. You'll be like da Vinci and all those amazing artists, yes?" He smiled. "It is alright. I did not have friends too, but I had older siblings and my younger brother. I'm guessing you are the youngest. Am I right?"
"Of course!" He suddenly chirped. "I probably won't be able to talk while making the face, but you can if you'd like. I enjoy listening to people talk endlessly, it's nice. I would like to learn all about you, Sir." Once he had finish speaking, he paused for a moment to recall the expression in the thumbnail. He did his best by raising his eyebrows, widening his eyes, then lowering his lips. Well, if his memory did not really serve him right, hopefully Mister Ashton will tell him to adjust it.
He paused, raising his head and chuckling. His heart fluttered at his hire’s words, but at the same time they amused him. His hand covered his mouth, rubbing it before revealing his smile again. “Oh Mr. Bathory, you are too kind. I also believe it was worth it, I do love my work. Besides, Arty is the best friend I’ll ever have.” After laughing some more, he continued, “but if I remember correctly, da Vinci was also a mathematician and inventor, neither of which I’ll ever be.”
Then the laughter faded. “I— yes, I am the younger brother. But sir— how? How could you have also had no friends? You’re so…” something made Jayme pause. “… charming, and handsome,” he finished, his voice noticeably lower. “Is it because you are…?” He trailed off. Maybe they should not talk too deeply like this so quickly. Goodness, this man was so amiable and easy to talk to, Jayme was getting carried away.
And somehow, he got him smiling again. “Well, I’m not usually the chattiest, so I don’t really mind. But I suppose getting to know others is something I need to relearn, so I think I would like to learn about you too, sir.” As he watched him, he made a low whistle. “That’s perfect, I’m impressed.”
He studied Bathory for a moment, then went back to drawing. Indeed, his expression was a near equivalent to the one in the thumbnail. Jayme sketched quickly, looked up again, then moved to correct the mouth shape.
It was difficult for him to fight off the urge to squint his eyes. He tried his best to figure out what he had said that was funny. A minute or so went by and he was not sure at all, but oh how Mister Ashton's laugh caught him off guard. His attention immediately jumped to it. The way it sounds so captivating and beats against his chest. Neci almost laughed at how his boss covered his smile before showing it. Oh if there was a way for him to capture the breathtaking sight in front of him that is Mister Ashton and his grin. If there was something as daring to rival the sun, he knew who that could be and all it takes is for the man in front of him to beam brighter than any star imaginable.
"Oh, but still, Boss, da Vinci was much more than an artist. And I believe that you will be the same. Sure you might not be a mathematician or an inventor, you will be whatever else you want! You are great! You will have a lasting impression for generations, I am sure of it!" The shock in his face was gradually turning into something else. No matter with all his might, the pupils in his eyes were wide. Perhaps the sparkle and light from Ashton's smile had reflected off of his eyes.
Yet the light across from him had faded. Neci was not sure where to start. Before he could even think of anything, his face began to warm up. Not in a fever kind of heating up, though it was very prominent. Suddenly the words "charming" and "handsome" had a whole completely different meaning to him now; they felt special falling off of Mister Ashton's tongue. Yes, he has been called "handsome" thousands upon thousands of times. He even recalls Mister Ashton calling him "handsome" yesterday, but the word means so much more to him now.
"I beg your pardon?" He already assumed what his boss was trying to say. On the other hand, he was more confused as to why the man had stopped himself. Personally, he would love to talk more and in a deeper sense. Despite them working together, there is something about Ashton that makes him feel so comfortable around him. "I am sure we will have plenty of opportunities to talk," He nodded. "I would love to talk to you a lot, if that is something you wish to."
He wanted to smile, though he knew he couldn't. Neci kept on with the surprised expression, even though he kept looking over at Mister Ashton from time to time.
The combination of the high praise with the title of ‘boss’ again made Jayme both confused and flustered. The sparkle in the man’s eyes captivated him for half a second. “I— I don’t know, per— perhaps?” He stuttered, a nervous grin still present. “I’m not sure I think so but… I mean….”
Then he saw Bathory’s face tinted with pink, and instantly guilt spilled through him. He regretted saying anything at all. He must have embarrassed him! How could he have said such inappropriate things? He was about to simply look away and avoid the man’s face for the rest of their time together when he heard his voice again. Even so, he stared at the piece of paper in front of him.
At first, he hesitated, but the mere sound of Bathory’s prompting made him speak. “… Was it because you were an immigrant? You… you said you came here when you were young, right?”
Gradually, he raised his eyes to meet the other man’s. Was he trying to say that he was fine with the more personal question? He was worried about the intense compliments as well, but Bathory seemed to have recovered from them quickly.
“I… I’m glad,” he said softly. “that you want to talk to me. I want to talk to you, too. I…”
He had thought about saying more, but Artemisia meowed at that moment, instantly making Jayme more relaxed. He chuckled a little and said, “Yes Arty, you can talk too. And sir, you don’t need to model the expression anymore. I’ve got it.”
The sketch looked good and ready for painting. Jayme took his eraser and lightly erased over all of it, then got up to fetch some adhesive tape. After taping all four sides to the desk, he prepared his paints.
A small gap between his lips formed, although he was not sure if it was because he wanted to say something or to smile. Regardless, he attempted to withhold the urge of grinning and held his tongue. It was something, watching as Mister Ashton was looking at him while stuttering. A sudden shiver ran down his spine. The man must have noticed him. He must have noticed the way he had lit up because of him.
Neci wants to bring it up. He wants to tell Mister Ashton about why he thinks that his smile is so full of warmth or why he finds his laugh to be so soothing. He wants to tell him that he likes the way he says "handsome". Though he cannot, he shouldn't. He does not want to sound like a fool, and he does not want to lose this job. Even for it being his first day, it all means so much to him.
His heart almost stopped when Ashton looked back at him. He nodded. "Even in Hungary too. I lived closed to the suburbs where the Austrians live. I knew barely any English coming here, I only knew swear words because my older brothers were more fluent than me. Besides, I worked all the time and never went to school." The feeling of embarrassment rose within him. He felt teary, though he kept staring at the wall which helped him stop the tears from forming. Despite it all, he felt safe and comfortable to go on. "I made my first friend when I was sixteen; he's handsome from what I remember. And I've made another at twenty five, also handsome too."
Mister Ashton wants to talk to him? Him? He let out a soft sigh. When Artemisia meowed, he could not help but gently pet her. "Go on my furry friend. Talk as much as you like. Okay?" He laughed, still petting her. Glancing back at his boss, he nodded before relaxing his face. "Thank you."
Jayme realized he forgot to draw the other cats. Adding them in was no problem, he was quick at them because of the practice. He kept his eyes on the paper as he listened to his model. When he raised his head to look at him, his brow upturned with concerned. Bathory did not look well, and it worried him, but he had no idea what to say. So, he finished drawing the other cats, quietly worrying.
“Handsome friends…” he murmured. “I’m not surprised.”
Thankfully, the cat’s meow also seemed to put the other man at ease. Jayme quickly and lightly erased the sketch of the other cats, then moved to paint. The plan was to make the painting during nighttime, with an unseen streetlamp providing a hard, contrasting light source. So, he gently gave the paper a wash of plain water, then added the paint, watching it bleed across the page in a light blue color.
“I think I made my first friend when I was….” He paused. “Twelve? Thirteen? But our friendship was short lived. I believe she moved away to another town, and I was apparently incapable of making friends after that. At least, until I went to university.”
Perhaps subtlety is not one of his strongest suits. Actually, he was not sure what had overcome him when he said that last part about the first and last friend he made. Something must have possessed his lips. The feeling is funny, but he really had no clue how to describe it. Maybe it could possibly make sense since he has been feeling oddly warm ever since he had arrived. Come to think of it, he also had red cheeks during the interview, but that had to be because he was nervous during the interview, right?
Neci was happy to hear about when Ashton first made a friend, yet he quickly became a little sad at hearing when the friendship didn't last long. Glancing over at the desk, he tried to see what his boss was doing. He wondered if he can ask to watch, despite his job being that he has to sit and model. All he could really see was Ashton putting on some paint onto the paper and that's it. Oh well, he knew that the process must be taxing yet fascinating.
University. Such a funny thing for him to say in English still, though he was very curious as to what one is like. Some of the men he worked with in the war had gone to one for a business or teaching degree. It sounds interesting to him. "Really? Did you make a lot of friends there?" He doesn't see why not. Mister Ashton is a soft and kind person; defiantly someone Neci would befriend right away. Surely the kind of person he would not mind getting close to.
More questions kept popping up in his mind, yet he knew that he would have to keep them stored inside his mind. He just wants to hear anything and everything from Mister Ashton. On the other hand, he did not wish to bombard the man with tons of questions. His excitement and curiosity must be getting the best of him.
At the moment, he did not really need to look at the models for reference. Jayme was working on establishing values in the painting— that is, darker and lighter parts of the painting, using different shades of blue as a scale. It would be difficult to replicate a night scene in his studio, as he would need equipment that he simply could not and did not want to purchase. He simply went based off his own instincts and memories, as well as art he had seen in other places by other artists. He would, of course, look to his model to see how basic shadows interacted with his form, as the lighting in the studio was different than how it is in the living room. But as for things like cast shadows and colors, Jayme was painting that based off of his own imagination and knowledge of how a light source like the mentioned streetlamp would interact with a subject.
So, he kept his eyes almost entirely on the painting in front of him. He was so absorbed in his work that he did not realize that Bathory had asked him something until some two seconds later. When he did, he looked up. “Hm? Oh, ah…” he laughed awkwardly, trying to recall the question. “At university? Um, no. I mean, there were a lot of friendly people, but there were only a few people whom I regularly spent my time with. It was nice though, and I still have contact with two or three of them today.”
After a bit more painting, he decided to ask, “Did you go to university, sir? I don’t recall you talking about it during the interview, but I thought I’d ask.”
He wondered if it was possible for him to get up and watch as Ashton painted. Really it did not seem like he was needed much compared to a while ago, although, he remained still. Occasionally he would scratch Artemisia and pet her here and there. Such a lovely cat indeed.
Resting his hand on the bench, he turned his chin in the direction of Mister Ashton. His smile pressed on as he heard his boss laugh, despite it's awkward tone. Something about Ashton's laughs and chuckles are leaving an impression on him. They rang in his ears, making his heart jump and stumble; but it wanted to hear them again. He kept smiling as his boss spoke. University sounds like fun, or at least it does from Ashton.
Neci bit the inside of his lip. His eyes wandered off to the side. He didn't even go to secondary school. Sure a lot of people have not gone to a university, but still, he always found himself growing awfully quiet the moment anybody asks him that question. His comrades, former employers, clients, and frequenters at the speakeasies. Even his new boss. What would he think of him then? What does he even think of me right now?
Still he was biting the inside of his lip. At the realization of it, his teeth let go and then he licked his lips. With a shake of his head he replied, "Ahh, I did not talk about it during the interview. I did not go to university. If I may be honest, I never went to a school here." He sighed. "I just learned through working and the war really. And the library downtown too, it's a beautiful place. Have you ever been there?"
The cat did not let him pet her for long. She jumped off of the bench and dashed over to her owner, hiding between his legs. “Hello, Arty,” Jayme muttered without looking away from the painting. She meowed, placing a paw on his ankle. He sighed. “You’re not hungry, are you?”
When he finally looked up, he found Bathory smiling. It was so… bright and wide, it was like the sun. Warmth spread in Jayme’s face for some unknowable reason. But then it faded, and Bathory started biting his lip instead. Jayme worried. Had he done, said something wrong? He waited. The other man was awfully quiet.
Then he spoke at last. Jayme sighed a little. “Oh, I see.” He thought about that for a moment. He didn’t think he had met anybody with Bathory’s level of education. Then again, Bathory was quite unlike anybody Jayme had met in many ways. He had seemed hesitant about sharing that information, and he could understand. He frowned at himself. Perhaps he should not have asked.
He blinked and allowed the frown to fade. “Oh, the library, yes! You like to read?”
For a moment he glanced at the painting, then back at Bathory. After studying the colors of his clothes, he started picking them out from the paints.
Neci made his lips turn into a pout, pretending to be sad when the cat had left. It did not work for long. With his nose scrunched up and a smile revealing his teeth, he laughed to himself.
His gaze had followed the cat. The man almost laughed again, watching the scene play out between Ashton and his pet. A beaming grin pressed onto his face. It stayed despite a tight feeling on his chest once his boss had looked at him.
Even as he turned his neck to look at the wall, his gaze was still stuck on Ashton. For some reason it was just hard for him. The lip bite…The faltering tone… Him becoming silent must have made the boss uncomfortable.
"Oh yes! It is fun. It is my way of going to school," He beamed, happy the mood in the air had changed. "I have read all sorts of books there, some in Hungarian though. Do you like to read, Boss? Do you have a favorite book?"
Words ran on his tongue, wanting to rush out. He almost did not want to say anything, rather he wanted to give time for Ashton to speak. And yet, he went on. "Umm….Boss…I am sorry to interrupt, but forgive me for becoming strange after you ask questions. It is alright. I just worry about your reaction. Do not worry, it is okay though. You are pleasant to talk to, Mister Ashton."
He began mixing the colors, becoming more relaxed as Bathory spoke. Before he could answer though, the other man began to speak again, so Jayme went to fill in his skin with the paint. When Bathory finished, he wasn’t sure whether to smile or frown, so he did not do anything.
“O—oh,” he stuttered. “I see. I understand, I worry… I worry about that too, a lot. Do tell me if— if I ask or say something that makes you uncomfortable sir, that is the last thing I would want.” After a moment’s hesitation, he also continued, “Speaking of which, I don’t think I should be called boss— um, just sir or Mister Ashton is fine. I know that I am the one who hired you and all that, but I… I prefer to think of you and I as partners, not just employer and employee.”
After taking a moment to make adjustments to the skin, he answered the other question. “I do like to read, but I haven’t really sat down to read a book in a long time. I suppose work takes up a lot of my time these days. That’s also why I don’t really have a favorite book either. Sometimes I wish I could have the time to read again.”
Artemisia mewed again. Jayme sighed. “Alright, I’ll feed you.” After putting some last minute touches to the painting, he set his paintbrush down and stood up. “Feel free to walk around and stretch,” he told Bathory, “or go to the restroom while I’m occupied.”
He made his way out of the room, and the cat followed with her ears and tail sticking straight up.
As partners…. Gee, he never really had thought of it that way. Partners is really a term for lawyers or something coming from his knowledge. His eyes flickered to the floor. He took note of what Ashton was saying; the man's words make all the more interesting. Never had he met a person in America, or even all the way back in Europe, who had spoken to him in such a manner. He almost missed Ashton responding to his previous question about reading and books.
It took him a while to glance over at Ashton again. Again, he barely missed what was being said to him. His mind keeps wandering, thinking deeply about funny matters that no one would think of. Really, he was not sure if any way of his mannerisms right now were normal. A sigh drew out from his lips before he nodded.
Neci had waited till Mister Ashton and his cat had left the room before getting up. He steadily got up while resting his right hand on the bench. His knees made a small crack sound as he stood. Heavens knows how long he must have sat there in that position. For it being his first time modeling, it was not that bad. Not even in the slightest. He enjoyed being useful while not even moving a single muscle.
Pacing around the room for a couple of minutes, he held his hands high over his head. Sometimes he would stop to shake one of his legs or do some other sort of stretch. Eventually he stopped with the walking around and went to lean by one of the windows. While he did look out into the city, watching people on the sidewalk, his eyes wandered over to the table and the painting.
His feet took him over there. With his hands clasped behind his back, he leaned a little to look at the painting. The corners of his lips perked up as he gazed upon it. Even for it still in the progress of being finished, it looked wonderful.
Once again, Bathory’s silence worried him. Though, it was not like before, where he was worried about what the man thought of him. It was more that Jayme did not want the conversation to end awkwardly, or for it to leave a tension in the air that couldn’t be resolved. At least he had the chance to get away from that tension now.
Artemisia knew what was coming. Her ears and tail were perked up, her eyes were wide. Jayme smiled softly at her before going up the stairs and checking the time as he passed an old clock on the wall. Had it really been only an hour? It felt as though more time had passed than that.
When they reached the kitchen, he found the cat’s food bowl sitting off to the side on the floor, empty. Jayme took it and set it on the counter, then opened the cabinet where he usually kept other dry ingredients and took out a container of cat food. As he poured it into the bowl, he heard Artemisia meowing curiously and rubbing against his legs.
“Lunch is served,” he chuckled, and placed the bowl back in its spot. He petted her head as she walked over, then went back downstairs.
He found Bathory there, standing over the painting. Running his hand through his hair, Jayme approached him and tilted his head. “What do you think so far?” He asked.
Somehow the idea of being a model now had come to mind. It is weird to Neci. It is not like getting a photograph taken. Instead of a photographer, it's Mister Ashton, and instead of a camera, it's Ashton's hands creating the image. Besides, one does not get the exact face like a photograph; the face is the way the painter sees it himself, how he paints and draws it.
The fact oddly resonated in him. His shoulders jumped up as a shiver ran down his spine. In a way, he felt like that one Greek mythology character, Narcissus. Just by standing there and staring at what practically is his reflection. Admiring it too nonetheless and even as he admired it, there was something more that he loved about it. What is it?
His eyes were glued to the painting until he heard Mister Ashton's voice. His partner. Oh Lord, funny how he has to get used to that. With lips pressed together, he turned to face Ashton. "It's wonderful," He mused. "I never really expected to end up being a part of something this great."
Taking the hat off, he gazed back over at it. He held the hat in his left hand while using the other to help fluff his hair. Old habits die hard, even though Neci figured that he would be putting it on in just a few moments.
"In a way, it is a little bit strange to me. I have not been able to take my eyes off of it since I stood up. I am curious about it."
Jayme felt his cheek grow warm. “It’s— it’s not even finished yet, sir,” he muttered, “I’m as clueless as you.”
Stepping closer, he looked over the piece and placed a hand over his chin. “I still need to block in the colors, and then do a bit more shading. After that… Mm, just the finishing touches, I suppose. It might take a while, but I do not need to finish it today.” He was saying this for his sake just as much as Bathory’s. The last thing he wanted to do was to finish the piece early at the cost of Mr. Bathory’s time and energy, but there was a chance he might go overboard. “For the colors…” his hand rubbed against his lower lip. “I don’t really need you to model for me, I just need to make sure the values are right. For the additional shading, I may need you to model. How does that sound?”
He tried to keep his eyes away from the other man, but they inevitably wandered in his direction. Just as Bathory could not look away from the painting, Jayme could not keep away his eye from him. The way his hand moved through his dark hair, how the muscles in his arm shifted beneath the skin. He could see it, even though it was coved by a white sleeve. The fixed look in those deep eyes, framed by sharp eyebrows. It seemed Jayme could not get over how visually appealing the man was to him.
Resting his fist underneath his chin, he titled his head. Shifting his weight back and forth between both feet, he nodded, still keeping his eyes on the painting. He looked over his shoulder at Ashton, smiling. Briefly, he patted the man's back then ran his hand through his hair again. "Sounds good to me!" He beamed. "Take as long as you need. No rush! I'll just stay over by the bench if that is alright with you."
Mister Ashton could take all the time he needs to. Neci would not mind staying late into the evening or having to come in at the break of dawn if needed. As long as he gets to see and talk to the man, then he does not mind. Yes it is part of his job now, although, it is strange to say that it does not really feel like it. He is willing, more than he ever has been before. Is it for the sake of the painting? Is it something else? He does not know.
Speaking of which, something about the painter had caught his attention. The knowing of Ashton's eyes on him left a shiver running down his spine. It left his cheeks printed in red. His heart stunned, wanting to know why he feels this way. Oddly enough, Neci likes it. He likes the way Ashton gazes at him. He wants to say something, he wants to look back at Mister Ashton, but he does not. Only his muscles move a little as he stands idly in the direction of the painting. He wants to say something. Oh Lord, he wants to.
He almost flinched when he felt Mr. Bathory’s hand on his back. Jayme had not expected that in the slightest. “O— oh, good. Um, yes that’s alright, I do still need to, ah, to see you.”
He kept his hand over his mouth, so the words sounded a little mumbled. He quickly moved over to the desk and looked over the painting, though unlike Bathory, it was with a critical eye. The paint was still a little wet, so he bent over, removed his hand, and blew over it so it would dry quicker.
“Ahh, it’s still wet,” he mumbled. “The skin is already muddying with the blue. Mistake on my part.”
He exhaled, trying to suppress a sudden frustration. Sometimes this would happen, he would get overexcited and not wait until the paint had dried, and then the final result would turn out quite muddy and underwhelming. Jayme stared down at the paper, not willing his gaze to drifted to Bathory again. Soon he pulled out his sketchbook.
“Let’s just wait, then,” he sighed. “I’m going to draw you again, if you don’t mind.”
He sat down, his fingers itching to do something. As he flipped through the sketchbook, he found the page where he had drawn a bunch of pigeons. Letting out another breath, he took his pencil and finished one of the sketches, then turned to a blank page. Finally, he looked at Bathory again. Sharp angles, he thought. Soft eyes. He started drawing.
"I am sorry." Neci noticed the way Ashton jerked after patting his back. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he turned a little so he wouldn't have to keep moving his neck and there he stayed. Somehow he found the urge to giggle at what his partner said. "Mmmm, indeed. Otherwise, I would already be failing at my job."
To his assumption, Ashton must be examining the painting the same way a doctor would at a patient. His eyes stopped staring at it then watched as the man blew on it. For a minute, he turned his head slightly with confusion, even as he tried to decipher the mumbles. Something about the paint still bring wet he assumed.
Shifting the weight between his feet, he cleared his throat. It kept him distracted momentarily before Ashton had sat down. Somehow he thought that it meant it was time for him to walk over to the bench, although his partner's words kept him from going.
"Of course," He nodded with a soft smile. "Draw as you please, Sir." Neci maintained his position, supposing that is what Ashton wanted. Every now and then he did look over only to find himself fighting off the urge to smile with each glance.
Jayme felt his cheeks warm and he ran his fingers through his hair in embarrassment. “R— right.” He thought back to Bathory’s apology, and somehow felt a little guilty, like he shouldn’t have flinched. It was barely anything to flinch about.
Somehow, Bathory’s smile calmed him. He also felt more relaxed as he continued drawing. He made the sketches fairly small so he could fit a lot onto one page. Sometimes he would glance over and cautiously touch the painting to see if it left a mark on his finger, then return to drawing. His hands were already covered with small splatters of paint or colored water, so it did not really matter to him that he would get them dirty by touching the painting.
Why drawing pretty men like Bathory was so much fun to him, he would never know. He had always found it easier to depict the male form, it was a comfort zone of sorts. Therefore, it was a perfect subject whenever he needed to unwind.
After a few minutes, Jayme asked, “Ah, is there anything you would like to talk about, sir?”
"Are you alright, Mister Ashton?" Neci could not shake off the sight of his partner flinching. His only worry was of how Ashton had felt in that moment and what he feels now. Personally he tends to do things like pats on the shoulder or arm; it is just what he does and he does so without a thought. "Sorry. I just tend to give physical interactions like that a lot, you know? We are partners too, no? If you don't like it, just let me know. It's alright, partner." He chuckled, then followed it with a wink.
Soon after he took a deep breath, his eyes drifted down to the floor. His mind had wandered off although to no place in particular, but he would be lying if he said that. While his mind did not really go anywhere, he occupied himself with images of Ashton's soft smiles. The bright look on his face stayed. On the other hand, the appearance in his eyes had fizzled away as they normally do when he gets distracted.
"Oh, yes…." His voice had trailed off. If he was able to speak frankly, he just did not like silence. And also, if he were able to be honest, Neci really just wanted to hear Ashton speak. "Have you ever been to Europe, Ashton?" He asked, still absently gazing at the floor. "Is there any place there that you wish to see? Anything you wish to see for yourself?"
Jayme ran his hands through his hair again. "I'm fine, I'm alright," he said. "I understand. I am just not used to casual touch like that, I suppose. There wasn't any warning." There was also no warning for Bathory's wink. Jayme had to quickly look away, his cheeks still warm, but he soon tried to recreate it in his sketchbook. Why must he be so beautiful?
As Bathory's eyes drifted downwards, Jayme watched with interest. Another fascinating expression for him to capture. For some time there was only the sound of breathing and pencil scribbles.
"Hmm, that's a good question," he replied. "I have never been to Europe, though I have been told that my family was once made of Irish immigrants. It would be interesting to go to Ireland and see what it's like, perhaps spend some time painting the landscape."
He checked the painting again, then set aside his pencil. Passing the sketchbook to Bathory, he said, "You can look at them," then picked up his paintbrush again. The paint was dry, so he remixed some colors and began refilling in the skin.
Warning. He will have to remember for next time. Well that is, if he can remember next time. Habits are like linguistic rules, so hard to unlearn when facing a new one. For Mister Ashton though, he will do his utmost best. Although, Neci knows that there is another reason why he is so fixated on making sure everything is alright with Ashton, but he has no idea what it could be.
Initially, he thought of nothing when watching as his partner quickly looked away. Is it odd to him? Yes, but he got distracted by the sounds of pencil against paper and Mister Ashton's eyes on him. He had realized that sometimes his mind went blank anytime that Ashton was looking at him, smiling, laughing, and everything in between. Is such a thing normal?
"Ah, Ireland….I have been told that the seaside and the green rolling hills are a wonder to see." He turned to face Ashton. With a nod, he added, "I bet it must be true. 'Would make for a beautiful painting by you, of course."
His thoughts rapidly changed as he was passed the sketchbook. Carefully holding it up, his eyes widened at the sight of the "Do you always draw people like this? So wonderful and captivating…" He breathed. His other hand rested above his besting heart. "It is mesmerizing the way you make it better than a mirror. Do I really look like this, Sir?"
Jayme’s eyebrows subconsciously knotted together. More and more, he was becoming aware about how much he thought of Bathory’s appearance. Of course, he needed to, it was part of his job, but why did he like it so much? The prolonged stares, the wink. Wasn’t it all so unnatural? Why was he doing it?
“Ah yes,” he agreed. He was still focusing on just the skin now, painting the small shadows and variations in color here and there. “The difference between the city and the country intrigues me, certainly.”
As Bathory held up the sketchbook, Jayme felt a surge of self-loathing. He regretted even drawing the man so much, it wasn’t even for work. The sketches weren’t even that good. He suddenly had a mental image of taking the sketchbook from Bathory and ripping out the pages. At the same time, his mind tried to justify it all. Bathory was his model, after all, Jayme needed to be familiar with his appearance. And even if the sketches weren’t for work, he still needed to practice drawing outside of a professional setting. Yes, they were just expression practices, that was all. But even then, a feeling of discomfort remained.
And why, why was there the feeling of his heart pulsing at his partner’s words? “To me, you do,” the words slipped out, nearly against his will. “I— I mean, art is just a reflection of reality, isn’t it? It doesn’t truly mirror it, only reflects and refracts.”
