Work Text:
"Honestly, I don't understand how you can paint all day without getting bored," Cleo observed, gazing at her lover as she painted. Her hands were stained with versatile paints, holding an unfinished painting depicting a vase filled with flowers on a canvas in front of her.
"Well," she began as she sunk her brush into a mug filled with water to clean the paint from it, smiling at Cleo as she turned to face her, "it's fun! A bit time-consuming, but enjoyable!" she said with a shrug, beating the end of her brush against the mug to drip out the water.
"Enjoyable? It doesn't look like it."
"Maybe, but have you ever tried painting?"
The question stunned Cleo. She crossed her legs and folded her arms. "Well, no, not really," she answered, wondering if dripping cheap watercolor paints onto printer paper during 4th grade art class would have counted as painting. Probably not.
Frida put her palette and brush away onto a table behind her and walked up to Cleo. "You should try it then! You can help me finish my painting," she said and grabbed her girlfriend by her wrists, gently pulling her out of her chair and guiding her to the easel. She picked up the palette and brush and handed them to Cleo while pushing her towards the canvas. Cleo glared at the painting, unsure of what to do.
"I doubt that art is for me."
"You will never find out if you don't try."
"But what if I ruin your painting?"
"You won't!" Cleo gave Frida an unconvinced look. "Besides, I could just paint a new painting if you do ruin it!"
Cleo sighed and anxiously dipped the tip of her brush into the pink paint on Frida's palette. With slight hesitation, she spread the paint on the outline of a flower petal that Frida had sketched out before. Due to her shaking hands, Cleo's brushstroke ended up crooked and uneven.
"See? Painting isn't for me. The only brush I have experience with is a makeup brush," Frida hit Cleo's shoulder encouragingly. "Oh come on, you just started! You just need to get used to the brush! Your eyeliner strokes are always so smooth, I know you got it in you!"
Cleo felt her cheeks slowly turn warm at the compliment, finding it endearing that Frida would pay attention to her makeup like that. The pep talk gave her a little more confidence, so she dipped the brush into the pastel pink paint and spread it across the canvas. She watched with fascination as her hand strokes created more and more flower petals. It was one thing watching Frida paint, but it was much different when you painted yourself. It was like giving life to a splash of color, and it felt magical.
Cleo became immersed in the process, her initial apprehension melting away as she found herself lost in the swirls and strokes of the paintbrush. The worries and stresses of the outside world seemed to fade into the background as she focused solely on the canvas before her. Frida watched with a delighted smile as Cleo's confidence grew with each stroke. She could see the transformation happening right in front of her eyes, as if a hidden artist was awakening within Cleo. The way she blended colors and added intricate details showed a natural talent that she had never realized before.
"See, you're doing great!" Frida praised, causing a smile to appear on Cleo's face as she shook her head slightly. "Not as great in comparison to you! My attempts at a brush stroke look like finger painting compared to yours!"
Suddenly, Frida grabbed Cleo's wrist again. "
Let me help you with that then," she said with a sly smile, and started to guide Cleo's hand across the canvas, creating smooth and long strokes. Cleo's hand trembled slightly as Frida guided her brush across the canvas, but she could feel the difference in the strokes. There was a certain grace and fluidity to Frida's movements, and Cleo tried to mimic them as best she could.
As they worked together, the painting began to take shape. The colors blended harmoniously, and the flower petals came to life. Time seemed to pass in a blur as Cleo and Frida continued their collaborative effort. Cleo's initial reluctance had transformed into a newfound enthusiasm for painting. The process itself was therapeutic, allowing her to express herself in ways she hadn't considered before. The more she painted, the more she discovered her own artistic voice, and it exhilarated her.
As the final touches were added to the painting, Cleo stepped back to admire their work. The vase filled with vibrant flowers now appeared complete, a testament to their combined efforts. Cleo couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment, tinged with a newfound appreciation for the art form. Frida wrapped her arms around Cleo from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder as they both admired the finished painting.
"Well then, what do ya think?" she asked.
"Hmm…" Cleo pretended to think for a while, turning her gaze at her girlfriend. "It was fun, but I still think I messed up the flowers."
"Every great artist hates their work!" Frida laughed, kissing Cleo on the cheek.
Cleo blushed at the affectionate gesture and chuckled. "Well, maybe I can learn to appreciate the imperfections then."
Frida nodded, her eyes gleaming with pride. "That's the spirit! Art is subjective, and what matters most is the joy and fulfillment it brings you. Don't worry about what others may think."
Cleo took a step back and observed the painting again. She realized that while her brushstrokes may not have been as polished as Frida's, they added a unique touch to the artwork. The imperfections gave it character and made it a true collaboration between the two of them.
"You know," Cleo began, her voice filled with newfound confidence, "I think I might want to give painting another try. Maybe even explore my own style and create something entirely from my own imagination."
Frida beamed, her eyes shining with excitement. "Let's get started then!"