Work Text:
There’s the sound of a soft, rhythmic whisper that fills the room: a gentle glide of a pencil and a symphony of an inky pen against paper, black liquid running as smooth as honey. Each stroke forms a beautiful creation - a dance of life to what was once but a blank sheet of paper. It was a soothing, almost meditative sound. The light scratching. The melody of creativity. Simply love brewed fresh from an artist’s soul.
Then, that sound was suddenly replaced with a loud crumble followed by an irritated groan.
“Not good.” A strained mutter. “The colors are too dull.”
Vita stands and leans against the doorframe of the artist’s small room. She remained silent, almost afraid that the sound of a single intake of breath would further tip off the already irritated woman.
There is another crumble followed by a deep groan. The woman draws again. Then she stops abruptly. Draws again. Stops. Draws. Stops.
With that, Vita takes it as a sign to finally let her presence be known.
“Do you have an art block, Griseo?”
Fuschia eyes take in the sight of the blue haired artist sitting at a wooden desk, her back slightly hunched, neck strained with her forehead pressed flat against her left palm. Atop the wooden desk lay stacked journals and loose sketches. One torn, some crumbled up, many scattered all about, and one that simply catches Vita’s eyes:
A stunning landscape of iridescent greens and sweet soft blues. A painting drenched in love and something more. (Something about it sort of tugs at her heart. But for now, she chooses to ignore it).
Paint, multicolored ink, brushes and pens had also adorned the desk, surrounding the papers. They almost engulfed the woman who had been relentlessly drawing for quite some time now.
Though Vita did not have such a great view of her face, she could already envision the artist’s expression: anxious eyes, eyebrows scrunched up, tender lips pulled to a deep frown, and a light crease that spread across her head.
To Vita’s ultimate dismay, her genuine and heartfelt question was met with sheer annoyance.
“Vita, what do you want this time?”
You. Vita smiles cheekily to herself as she thinks about saying that. Though she knows better than to cross the woman when she’s like this. Frustrated and all. Cute and all. Undeniably attractive.
(Especially so since their messy breakup.)
“I just want to offer help to a friend. Am I in the wrong for that?” Her voice is laced with honeyed innocence, but perhaps layered with a different intent. Maybe. Maybe. Who truly knows?
Griseo darts her head up and narrows her eyes towards Vita. Sharp and aggravated purples are icy cold on playful fuschias. It is an obvious indicator of displeasure that Vita cannot help but find adorable.
“Nothing good ever comes from you.” Griseo’s words are sharp and there is a small downwards turn at the corners of her lips as unamusement settles in her eyes.
For Vita though, it was quite the opposite. In her eyes gleamed a high-spirited fuschia with a hint of teasing gold. “Oh, Little Griseo.. How your words hurt me so..”
“Don’t call me that. What do you want?”
Ooh. Snarky.
“To help, of course! I really really really mean it when I say that.” For emphasis, Vita places her right hand against her chest. “You look overwhelmed, and I know you tend to push yourself too hard when you’re stressed out like this.” She says and feels guilty of the way she catches a glimpse something shift within Griseo’s eyes.
“So what sort of..” Vita hums in thought and takes a second to remember how her ex-lover used to say it, “Feeling..? Are you trying to go for?”
There is a long pause before Griseo speaks. It’s almost as if she had been hesitant about what to say. About what to do. She contemplates for a second. Then with a long sigh and a run of her slender fingers through her hair, she eventually responds, “I don’t need your help, thank you. I can do this myself. Please leave me alone now.”
No, no. That won’t do!
Vita raises a brow and crosses her arms. Her words come out with a huff, “Are you sure? You don’t need my help?”
“No.” A deadpan stare. “I don’t.”
“Do you hate me that much?”
“I do, actually.” Griseo did not even spare Vita a single heartbeat before responding.
“Ouch.” Vita says and despite her playful tone, the woman’s words did hurt her.
She sort of - no - she definitely deserves it though. Griseo does have every right to hate her. She has every right to not want to be in her presence. In fact, with their troubling past, Vita must consider herself rather lucky that Griseo is even talking to her at all.
A moment passes. Then two. Vita takes a nervous glance around the room and starts to feel a bit silly just standing there by the doorframe. Though so terribly unwelcomed, she did not quite want to leave yet. But that’s okay, right? Friendship is still a friendship. Still an unbreakable bond. Even if it is slightly one sided. So not wanting to leave is normal, right? It has to be. She did not want to leave ever. At least not again. She’s sort of scared that walking out and away right now would remind her of when—
“..Sorry.”
The awkward and deafening silence is broken by Griseo’s soft, sweet and polite voice. “I’m sorry, Vita. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just the deadline that’s really stressing me out.”
“It's alright.” Vita hums with a reassuring smile. “You’re always rude to me anyways. So I'm super used to it now.”
“…Never mind then. I do mean to be rude.”
“I’m teasing!”
An exasperated sigh. “I hate it when you do.”
“You used to love it.” Vita blurts.
“…”
Another quiet moment. Vita bites her tongue. She dreads and hopes Griseo doesn’t notice, but already knows that she does. Griseo had always been the observant type after all. And it’s just that sharp eyed nature - the way every detail is taken in by Griseo’s watchful gaze: the sought out fleeting moments, those long bloomed memories, unguarded seconds of vulnerability, and the small, seemingly insignificant things that everyone overlooks - that is what Vita adores most about her.
Her perception. Her observation. The way the world around Griseo is paper and her eyes are ink. Capturing. Illustrating. Painting a lovely masterpiece in time. She’ll hang it up. All of her art. The colorful world living inside her delicate mind, forever attuned to the beauty that surrounds her.
(Vita hopes that inside that gallery, a painting of love — a terribly flawed green and an oh so perfect blue, is displayed - showcased - admired. She hopes Griseo visits there often. She hopes Griseo still cares.)
“If you really want to make yourself useful for once, I suppose you can.. Act as my muse? Help me act out a scene?”
Words break the swirling wave of thoughts that flooded Vita’s mind.
With a quick blink and a slight shift in her posture, Vita chirps all too happily, “Of course!” Anything for you.
She takes steps into the room, Griseo’s private chambers, effortlessly closing the door behind her. There’s a soft ‘thud’ when the door shuts. And there’s a soft ‘thump-thump-thump’ as Vita walks and finds herself behind Griseo’s seat.
She ignores it though. The rush. The beating of her chest. It doesn’t quite work though.
“What do you want me to do?” Vita asks, and without much thought, she places her hands against that of Griseo’s bare shoulders, palms flat against warm skin, before giving it a light squeeze.
It’s an unspoken question, they both know this. Griseo gradually leans into her touch. Giving her answer within quick and stubble actions. Just the way the two loved communicating most: without much needed to say - just the pure understanding of one another through movements alone.
Vita wonders why she had ever let her go. Why she had left. Made those stupid mistakes. Why—
As to avoid being plagued by unwanted thoughts, Vita squeezes gently once more before gliding her fingers and palm across the woman’s smooth skin- the tense muscles around her shoulders, neck, and arms. It’s a careful dance. One so intimate and caring. Each caress is a gentle stroke, a tender wave on the river of Griseo’s skin. Vita follows the curves of her muscles, her movement slow, seeking out all the knots and tension to soothe them.
With each touch, she can feel as Griseo grows more and more relaxed.
“Mm..” A soft and tranquil moan. It makes Vita flush ever so slightly. Red rises. Her ears are burning just a bit. She sort of misses that sound. She definitely misses being this close to the woman before her.
“Does.. it feel good?”
“Yeah.” Griseo says, and her voice sounds breathless. So pretty. “Thank you.”
Vita can’t help the giddy smile that spreads across her face. Cheeky. Happy. She can’t help the warm feeling blossoming in her chest.
“You’re welcome.”
Vita will continue on for about another few minutes or so. She’ll ignore the ache in her fingers and palm. It’s nothing more than a minor sacrifice to bring sweet relief to her— to Griseo. But then, she’ll freeze momentarily when Griseo speaks;
“Vita, I really need you..” Her words are murmured. Having been broken by another soft hum.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
What?
Vita’s heartbeat suddenly increases by ten-fold. Running. Racing. Speeding right out of her chest.
Did she hear her right?
Did she?
Her ears are burning more. Cheeks fuming. Both terribly red. She swallows and blinks furiously, having been taken back. Clearly not knowing how to react. Or if she should react. Griseo has never made such bold statements before. Not that Vita is complaining though.
After all, if Griseo wants, then who is Vita to decline?
Almost hesitantly, Vita responds. “Same-” She sounds so pathetic.
“I need you to stand beside the window and— wait. What did you say?”
Griseo turns around in her seat and tilts her head upwards. Their eyes immediately lock. Such a pretty purple.. Vita almost falters at the sight of the whole universe swirling in Griseo’s very eyes.
“Uhmmmmmmmm. Nothing! You said to stand by the window, right?” She tries to change the topic.
“I see you haven’t changed a bit.”
“That's a bad thing?”
Griseo blinks and ponders for a moment. Then she carefully mumbles, “Not exactly.”
“What?”
“Ahem. Anyways.”
“Griseo!”
“Anyways!!”
Griseo huffs. There’s a slightly darkening hint of red that bites at her ears. Vita wonders if it means anything at all.
“I’m trying to paint a certain.. Color. The feeling I’m going for is sensual and vulnerable. Yet.. Yet carnal.”
Griseo scrunches her brows as if in deep thought. Vita takes the moment to look at the crease that forms on Griseo’s head. She takes a moment to imagine waking up beside those same creases, the two of them being much, much older. Too bad neither were truly capable of aging normally. Or maybe, that’s what makes things all the more greater.
“Animalistic, even.” Griseo says. She sounds nervous. It’s cute. So so so cute. “Like cannibalism.. but not really?”
Vita tilts her head. “..Alright?”
Griseo sighs. “This is difficult. The image in my mind is too bland and dull.”
“Need inspiration?”
“Yes. Let’s just start with setting the scene.”
Vita chirps. “Okiedokie!”
Griseo smiles and speaks with content, “I want you to sit here. Beside the window,” She points and Vita is quick to move into position. “You can move open the curtains just a bit too. I think the sunset’s light would bring in a lovely glow.”
Vita happily does as she’s told, spreading the curtains slightly to let the setting sun’s golden light cast towards her. It’s warm. Inviting. Like Griseo herself.
“Great. You can sit down against the wall and lean back, actually. Let the light fall on your face.”
Vita does. She leans back and watches the way Griseo’s eyes follow her movements. She kind of likes the attention. Maybe more than ‘kind of.’
“Can you lift your chin up just a bit? Perfect. Now, slowly lift your hand to your hair and run your fingers through it.”
At the request, Vita raises a brow, but chooses not to question it. Her fingertips graze over the strands of her hair, with nails scraping gently against her scalp. “Like this?”
“Yes, like that. Ahh. Your expression should be soft, like you're lost in thought. Ah. No, no, no. Look at me.”
“You’re so direct.” Vita giggles. “It’s making me nervous, Little Griseo.”
“Oh shut up.”
“Wow. Dominant too. What a woman.” A teasing tone.
Griseo rolls her eyes and dismisses Vita’s comment.
“Tilt your head to the side- slowly. Keep going. Yes. And give me a gentle, dreamy smile”
Vita giggles once again. “Isn’t my smile always dreamy?”
“You wish.” Griseo scoffs. It’s playful. Vita loves it.
Pen meets paper in a gentle stroke. A softly drawn line, then three more. Griseo’s concentration remained solely on the sheet of sketch paper. Her graceful movements creating a desired masterpiece. It was not long though when her intense eyes grew frustrated. When her soft strokes became frenzied.
Vita’s concern grows when the artist's jaw sets in unhealthy determination, clenching in sheer annoyance that radiated from each mark made.
Griseo’s hand moved in a hectic manner almost as if each movement had been a silent release of pent up emotions. The sound of the pen raking against paper is nearly violent, an urgent rhythm that only echoes her internal struggle.
She scribbles the entire sketch. Crumbles the paper. Throws it across the room.
(Vita can’t help but imagine that very paper as herself; discarded, unwanted, tossed away.)
“Griseo?”
“It’s not enough. The colors just aren’t present.”
At that, Vita’s expression softens. So does her heart. She’s never been good at comfort. She only knows to play and tease. Though, she would hate to come off as rude right now.
Creations are a reflection of the self. She thinks of saying. You. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful to me. She bites her tongue - fearful of complementing. Fearful of the woman’s potential reaction. Fearful of the unknown. Therefore, your art would be just as divine.
“I’m stuck. This is it. This is the end of the line for me. There’s nothing more I can do. I’m going to die now.”
“…So dramatic.” Oops. The teasing slipped.
Griseo shoots her a glare. “I’m being serious!”
Vita could only cheekily smile. “I am too.”
With an irritated groan, Griseo takes countless steps towards Vita. Eyes sharp. Examining. Observing. “I need more intensity.” She stops in her tracks and Vita wishes that she would come closer.
“Try striking another pose. Something passionate. Craving. But also exposed. I need.. a deep intimate color.” Griseo nearly stumbles over her words when she continues, “..Drop your defenses, show me you’re powerless.”
Vita listens intently, a bright twinkle of amusement dancing in her eyes as Griseo speaks. She could almost see the imagination, sparks and gears running through Griseo’s mind. When the girl mentions creating an intimate color, Vita could not help but to chuckle with a low, throaty sound. She then leans back just a bit more, head slightly tilted upwards while her eyes remained on Griseo’s. Captivating. Enthralling. She keeps her gaze direct, beckoning the woman to relish in all her tantalizing wonder. Vita then drops her voice to a murmur, a hint of tease painting her tone.
“Oh, is that so? You want me to act as the weak, pitiful, and helpless Vita at your mercy?” She teases and adores the way Griseo’s cheeks begin to redden.
“I-It’s not like that!” Griseo fumes. “It’s just. The colors I am looking for.. Will be more present if you behave this way. And I need to be able to see it. That’s all.”
Vita smiles. “Alright. Alright. If it helps you, then I’ll be happy to do it.”
…
A moment passes. Then two.
“Vita..”
“Yeah?”
“I asked you to play the ‘weak and helpless’ role. Didn’t I?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why aren't you?”
Vita hums with a sly smile. Of course she wouldn’t let her sweet star get what she wants so soon. “Mm.. I don’t see you taking initiative in making me do so.”
“Tsk.” Griseo furrows her brows as the tone in her voice raises slightly. “Must you always make things so difficult?”
Vita grins. “Do you want my help or not?”
“I should be the one asking. You offered. Do you really want to help me or not?”
“I do. And I am. I’m just provoking you.” Vita muses, “Is it working? Is it helping? Am I helping?”
“This isn’t called helping!”
With that, Griseo leans forward in a fury of annoyance. She grabs onto the collar of Vita’s shirt and tugs her upwards.
They’re close now. Close. Very Close. Too close. Their faces are just inches away. Their breaths are tickling each other’s skin. Vita stares wide eyed at Griseo’s irritated frown.
Vita parts her lips as to speak. To say something. To tease. But she finds that words are quite hard to come by.
“What’s wrong?” Griseo tilts her head to the side. Strands of light blue hair flows as she does so. It frames her face all prettily. The way she’s looking at Vita is just too much too.
“Cat’s finally got your tongue, huh?”
“Um-!” Vita lets out an uncharacteristic squeak. Her cheeks start to feel a little too warm. Her body a little too hot. She swears she can feel a cool trace of sweat trailing down her neck.
It’s just, why does Griseo look so damn attractive right now? With her face so close. With her hands on her collar. With looks that could kill.
Terrifying. Sexily terrifying.
Vita swallows hard as her eyes follow Griseo’s lips - the way they break into a playful smirk.
(Ah, Vita won’t lie. She’s kind of horny now.)
“Perfect.” Griseo says and Vita’s throat sort of dries. “The way you’re looking at me right now.. It’s perfect. Keep on doing that.”
“And how am I looking at you?” Vita manages to say.
Griseo bites her lip. Nervously. Shyly. Then says with a breathless tone, “Like you want me.”
Griseo releases Vita’s shirt collar and brings her sketchbook closer. She then starts to draw with an ever growing blush spreading across her face.
Vita continues to look at her. Continues to want her. Continues to crave for her. She doesn’t stop.
Vita’s eyes never leave that figure of beauty. She simply watches with intent as Griseo’s fingers danced delicately across paper. As fingers twist and twirl and brush slowly, agonizingly, tauntingly against the softness of whites and whatever whatever whatever.
Eyes watch as Griseo takes quick glances back at her. As Griseo could only dart her eyes for no more than a single second. As those purples become shy. As, everytime their eyes do meet, those orbs plead and beg.
Eyes watch as Griseo shifts almost uncomfortably. As her legs sort of squeeze. As she swallows. As her chest heaves. As Griseo starts to spiral, drawing with ambition, with a new found blooming and furious passion.
“You’re trembling, little one.” Vita points out, somewhat regaining her composure from before.
“..Shut up.”
“Am I making you nervous?”
“No.” Griseo deadpans. “Not at all. I just have a terrible muse, so I’m having a hard time drawing with these muted colors.”
“Muted?” Vita blinks, then an idea comes to mind. “Come here, Griseo.”
“Why?”
“You scared?”
Griseo glares at her. “Of course not.”
Griseo sets her sketchbook and drawing supplies down. She takes gentle strides towards the insufferable woman lying on the ground.
When she grew close, Vita reached for her hand. Quickly. Swiftly. And in one fluid motion, pulled her down.
“Vita—!” Griseo gasps. “You-!” She lands above the woman. Legs falling on either side of her lanky body, straddling her hips and waist. Such an intimate position.
“Me?”
“W-What are you doing?!”
“Being a better muse, what else? Since the colors were too muted for you.. How about you come and engage with me then? Surely you’ll get better inspiration this way. Hehe.” Vita smiles. It's coy and mischievous.
Griseo looks at her. Their eyes meet. A glaring purple. An eager fuschia. A challenge. Vita all too happily takes it.
Vita begins to move. Begins to act.
She takes Griseo’s right hand and pulls it above her head. Griseo catches on and takes a second to hold Vita’s wrists in place.
Vita’s head falls back against the floor, her body arching into Griseo’s, as if desperate to feel more of her - and maybe she was desperate, maybe she did want more.
“How’s this?”
“Not bad..”
“Should I keep going?”
Griseo doesn’t speak. Doesn’t answer. She doesn’t really have too. Her gaze of interest, of curiosity and of anticipation was an answer enough.
My cute twinkling star. Must you always flirt this way?
Vita’s hands break free from Griseo’s gentle grasp and they come up to tangle themselves into the woman’s hair. With a soft tug and a quick, needy breath, Vita gasps.
“Griseo, please.”
(There’s a little too much truth in the way she says her name.)
Griseo shivers. Vita can feel it. The way the gentle pulling of hair had seemingly worked its way into Griseo’s nerves.
Vita bucks her hips — oh — and almost whines from the momentary firm pressure of having Griseo’s heated body pressed against where she needs to feel it most.
Though it’s all an act, she would be lying if she were to say her mind was not swimming in a state of overwhelming pleasure. The feeling of Griseo’s body atop of hers. The feeling of Griseo sitting atop her hips. The feeling of having her back, even if it was only for a single precious moment in time. It makes her breathless. It makes her desire. Makes her crave. It’s all too much.
“Griseo..” She says her name with a hint of need. A hint of want. A hint of I miss this. I miss us.
“Don’t make me beg. Can’t you give me what I want?”
“Gosh. Vita.” Griseo says, fuming, blushing. Her cheeks and ears burn so terribly red.
“How’s that?” Vita asks again.
Griseo leans forward when she answers, pressing her head against that of Vita’s. And it sort of makes Vita’s heart skip a beat– for a second she thought Griseo was going to kiss her.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what?”
“You know what.”
“Do I?”
“Vita.” Her voice is stern.
“Hehe. You’re too cute.”
“You’re too much.”
“You can handle it.” Vita places her hands on Griseo’s waist. Slides it up just a bit, letting her fingertips linger a little too long, evoking a shiver and a sharp gasp from Griseo’s lips. Then, she flips her over.
“Can’t you?” Maybe it’s too bold a choice. But Vita’s whispers into her ear. Soft lips brushing against the shell of her skin. Vita kind of wants to lick. Kind of wants to bite.
She holds herself back though and runs her hand along Griseo’s clothed body instead. Sliding her hands up and down her sides, one finally resting at her hip while the other comes up to her chest. Fingertips trace lightly from Griseo’s sternum down towards her belly, then a palm presses firmly against her abdomen.
She expects Griseo to push her away. To shove her off. But the artist doesn’t. Instead, Griseo’s hands wrap around her neck and urges her closer . Vita chooses to take it as a sign and runs her tongue against her ear.
(For a second, she wonders if this is truly okay. If it’s alright. If the two of them getting lost in the woods of their rapidly growing desires would keep them trapped, or help them find a new path home.)
“Vita.”
She could hear as Griseo’s breathing grew erratic. As her heart pounds - or maybe it’s the sound of Vita’s own. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Hearts racing wild.
“Griseo.” Voice low, dark and husked. A growl. Vita wasn’t even sure if she meant to come off so taunting, but she did.
Her teeth graze gently at Griseo’s ear. Graze and nibbles. Griseo bucks her hips at every soft bite. Vita then bites down just a bit harder, presses her palms down just a bit harsher and—
“Wait,” Griseo says suddenly and Vita immediately pauses her languid movements. Though it took all her willpower to do so. “Stay. Stay like this for a bit. These are.. The colors I want to convey.”
With that, Griseo arches her back - gosh what a divine sight - and extends her right arm above her head, reaching for the sketchbook and pencil just beside them.
Vita couldn’t look away from the sight: Griseo beneath her in such an intimate position. Hair stuck to her skin from the heat. From sweat. Her cheeks dark. Eyes glossy. She looks beautiful. Is beautiful. She smells sweet. So sweet, it’s almost dangerous.
There’s a low grumble that escapes Vita’s lips. She couldn’t help but to reach her hand down, grabbing onto Griseo’s wrist before the artist could reach her pencil.
“Vita?” Griseo questions. Vita only smiles at her.
“Don’t worry, pretty one. I won’t stop you.” Vita speaks against her ear, “It’s just that there’s surely a better position for you to draw in… Turn over for me, will you?”
Griseo swallows, the way her throat moves drives Vita insane. She listens and follows Vita’s command, turning over with palms and knees meeting the ground, her back arching so perfectly into the carvings that is Vita’s body.
Clothed chest against clothed back. Vita wants her undone.
“See,” Vita hums. “Now grab your stuff.”
Griseo reaches for her sketchbook and pencil. She slides it closer to herself and shifts around to be able to draw in a more comfortable manner.
“Pretty drawing.”
Ah, yes. The sketch:
A woman with a look in her eyes that is so deliberately unbecoming. A primal need to claim, claim, claim.
“It’s not finished yet.” Griseo says. Or breathes. Or gasps. Vita can’t really tell the difference anymore.
“Let’s finish it then. Let me help you.”
Lips attack flesh. Relentless and bombarding. Vita places quick, chaste kisses against the nape of Griseo’s neck.
“Hah..”
A frenzy.
She watches the way the pencil barely stays in Griseo’s grip. Relishes in the way Griseo breaks out into sharp breaths and soft pants. She can barely focus, Vita knows. She can barely make another line in her art.
“Vita, slow down.”
“Like this?” Vita whispers and kisses her neck. Slowly. Sensually. Taking her time. Lips latched, a tongue swiftly running over the same spot before starting to suck. Surely leaving a faint mark.
“Yes-” Griseo’s reply comes with a nod and a soft, soft noise.
Vita smiles. Then moves to place her right hand onto Griseo’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “My pretty little artist.” She trails that hand down her arm, fingertips leaving goosebumps in its place. She continues until her hand meets Griseo’s knuckles. There, she lets it rest gently.
“Go on. Keep drawing. You’re so close to being done. Don’t let me distract you now.”
Griseo shivers. “Aren’t you getting so well into character?”
Vita smiles. “You wanted a muse. Your request is my fulfillment.”
…
Griseo moans softly as Vita’s lips trail down her neck, her body arching towards the source of pleasure. She can feel her defenses crumbling, her will weakening with each kiss, with each caress.
It is divine.
The feeling. The sensation. The colors. Fierce greens and needy blues drowning into a vibrant red, red, red. Such passion is all a majestic swirl - constellations and celestias from an outward universe.
It brings her art to life.
Rough pencil sketches melting into artistic perfection. Into a masterpiece. Something so beautiful - intense - passionate. A woman. An undeniable palpable tension. Her body is pristine, unblemished. She’s all laid out. Open and vulnerable in the most haunting way imaginable. Her eyes beg, waiting for the touch of an artist’s fine brush.
(But Griseo wonders.. At this moment, who is the artist and who is the muse?)
Vita pulls Griseo’s zipper down, finally undoing her dress with fingertips that barely touch against her exposed back. Each coaxing stride of her dress coming undone is another second of sweet nectar dripping down Griseo’s thighs.
Sure Griseo is a little impatient. Yes. But she cannot be blamed. Her deadline is drawing near and she wishes for nothing more than to finish her work of art. Wants nothing more than to be a finished work of art.
Her dress slips off easily. Bra slips off even easier.
Vita’s hands wastes no time to come to grope her breasts. Taking a nipple between the sides of her fingers. Teasing. Kneading. Then a thumb runs over the sensitive bud. Then Vita kisses her neck again. Then her back. Then down her back. Lips so incredible that every encounter feels like a collision of clouds and dust between stars, an ever growing nebula.
Then Griseo whines.
Vita’s having a bit too much fun. More than a bit.
She likes it when Griseo is like this. Likes it when Griseo’s beneath her. When Griseo’s trembling all because of her.
It’s pretty. So pretty. And it makes her feel nice. Makes her feel like she could have her again. Like she’s hers again. Maybe she could be. Maybe she is.
“Vita. The colors,” Griseo gasps. “It’s almost enough. L-Let’s move to the mirror- I need to see.”
Kinky. Vita thinks. But she compiles nonetheless.
She drags her hand away from her breast and lifts her sweet twinkling star up. Griseo holds onto paper and pencil as Vita slowly carries her across the room. Vita’s careful with her steps. Careful not to step on loose papers or canvases that scattered around. Careful not to brush her thighs too close to one another, afraid that any sort of much needed friction right now will make her drop Griseo and take her right then and there.
Griseo’s feet gently touch the ground when Vita sets her down. She’s quick to place a palm with her art in hand against the mirror. Quick to position herself for Vita to take. Quick to shoot Vita a glance from the mirror that speaks without saying; Hurry. Now.
And that is just what Vita does: Pressing her body flat against Griseo’s. Unfathomable heat against her chest- so hot that even the Sun would envy the two of them.
Her left hand finds itself right above Griseo’s against the mirror. The other teases Griseo’s stomach. Slender fingers dance around until they reach her navel, outlining it, worshiping it.
Vita looks at the reflection of her shining star. Griseo has her eyes open, lips parted, watching intently at the hand that plays around her navel. She sucks a breath when Vita slides her thumb in briefly, holds it in when Vita scrapes her nails down her skin.
Light pink marks awake in that possessive trail.
Vita slowly slips her hands beneath drenched panties and Griseo lets out a loud cry.
“Look at you..” Vita sounds absolutely breathless. Terribly desperate. “You’re soaked. What a lovely sight.”
She catches the way Griseo’s gaze falls lower. The way Griseo’s eyes seem to gleam. Seems to fixate. It makes Vita swallow hard.
“Want a better view?”
She doesn’t wait for a response. She only loops a finger around her panties and tugs it to the side.
It elicits a raspy, loud moan from the artist — or rather, from the artwork displayed before her.
Perhaps it’s from the cold air that bites at her now exposed cunt. Griseo is shivering, after all.
“Pretty huh?” Vita licks her lips and presses herself further against her. Presses Griseo closer to the mirror. Presses her arousal at Griseo’s ass. Rocking her hips.
Chests heave. Moans fill the room. Mouths lie agape, parted. Eyes fill with an intense and hazy daze. Thighs that drench with a burning need.
Vita’s fingers bury themselves between Griseo’s folds. Palm and hand soaked with hot slick. Moving at a sweet pace. Fluid motions with fingers curling up within inner walls. Such a delicacy. Delicate fingers. Delicate touches that grow rough with time. Like paint flowing from a brush to a canvas. Swirls and whorls of colors that blossom. That spark.
Brushstrokes multiply. Vita slips another finger in and swipes a nectar-coated thumb over Griseo’s clit. The painting began. Circles. Quick. Fast. Yet gentle. It's enough for a painting to take on its own life, transforming from a mere stale image into a living, breathing - shaking - quivering entity on a reflective canvas.
“Ngh--” A moan.
Vita kisses her. Everywhere. Anywhere.
Lips pressed at her neck. Tongue flat down her back. A harsh bite there. Soothed out with a kiss that trails back up, up, up. To her shoulders. A nibble. A suck. A mark. Hers. Hers. Hers. The words ring loud in Vita’s head.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
She kisses the side of her neck. Moans pour out like wine overfilling a glass cup. Another kiss. Another bite. She kisses up her jaw and it drives her wild. How she knows Griseo’s eyes never once leave the sight of her own shameless reflection in the mirror.
They both grow close. Release draws near. There’s no more teasing. No more tension. Just pure lust. Pure need. Pure want. Pure desire.
It’s hot. Heated.
Vita’s abdomen pools with a scorching need that rivals hell itself.
She bites Griseo’s shoulder when she cums. Griseo screams her name.
…
Soft strands of green and blue hair sprawl out tenderly across the softness of plump white pillows.
Vita finds herself breathing calmly as she plays with the hands that hold her from behind. Strong yet delicate. Sweet yet firm.
Griseo cuddles her. Spoons her. Holds her so close. And Vita basks in the luminescent warmth that is her lovely star.
“Did you finish the drawing?” She asks after quite some time.
“I did.”
“Are you satisfied with it?”
“I am.”
“Your muse did a good job, right? She found all the colors you wanted?”
“Mhm,” Griseo’s embrace tightens just a bit. “She made my world all the more vibrant.”
Vita smiles. It’s happy and genuine. Her heart feels warm. Cheeks too.
She kind of wonders what Griseo means by that, or if Griseo even means anything at all. She kind of wonders what they are now. If they are anything. Lovers? Friends? In between? None of the above?
“Griseo?”
“Yeah?”
(She would ask, but she’s a bit afraid of ruining whatever this is right now.)
“We should have sex more often.”
Griseo rolls her eyes.