"I dream my painting.
And I paint my dreams."
-Vincent Van Gogh

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"You should come along, imagine the fun!"

Asher grunted lazily, he had lost count of the time Ava and his mother had wished for him to tag along. He really wanted to but the time wasn't right and he was tired of repeating his work so he just nodded and threw the black dress laying beside his ankle in her suitcase.

"You'll be late, get this shit done already," Asher complained, eyeing her suitcase. They were packing from yesterday night and she had discarded so many dresses that Asher was getting toothaches even by looking at a piece of fabric.

He couldn't understand the meaning of her 'Perfect date dress.' And above all that, he was irritated by how serious she was for this.

In her long ass dating history, she never actually cared about any of the boys and girls, she was a confident woman and she found herself the prettiest in the most simple form of clothing.

But just by the name of 'Avery', she flushed so much that Asher feared her cheeks might actually explode.

"That pink one? It looks cute," she rushed to Asher's side, single-handedly pulling him up from the bed to snatch the soft floral dress he was laying on.

"No, it makes you look tiny."

"Then what should I do?"

Asher sighed, he was annoyed and Ava's confused face was getting on his nerves.

The door flung open with a loud thud and Leo came inside, he was wearing a black oversized shirt over a flared jeans, his hair falling on his forehead. He looked as Korean as one could.

"Hey! Dad's asking for you in the kitchen," he said to Asher and then turned towards Ava, "Mom's losing her patience, she said you can buy a new dress when we arrive or she's leaving you right here if you didn't get out in 10 minutes." He shrugged and left.

Ava just stood there staring at her luggage like a paralyzed old woman. Asher could see the anxiety dripping out of her bones and couldn't help but leap up on his feet, he slowly made her sit on the bed and made space for himself on the floor.

"Ava, she's your friend. She knows you, you don't have to dress up to impress her. Just be yourself, do what your heart calls for."

❈❈❈

It was late in the afternoon and the sun was already planning to go down when Asher finally got the chance to sit back and relax. Charlie had to leave on a business trip so he dropped all of them at the airport together.

London and rain went hand in hand, the slippery roads and foggy evenings were like childhood friends for him. But today, the sky was clear and rosy, the hues fell on him passing the glass lane and engulfed him in a warm hug.

He barely had laid his head back but he jumped on his feet without a second thought. His hand grabbed for his jacket and then picked up the car keys, a chuckle left his lips and he almost tripped his way outside.

Life in London was rushed and fast-paced but still captivating, the streets were always busy but still, the friendliness of those little smiles people had was always mesmerizing.

He drove over the Thames and through Windsor till he reached his little studio, it wasn't fancy but just a small and cozy space with a backyard. Just enough for him to enjoy his solitude and feel free at the same time.

There was no rush today, he could stay here for as long as he wanted without any other thought in his mind.

The sun was already down and the room was breezy, he liked it exactly that way. He laid his jacket on the loveseat placed in the right corner of the room and unbuttoned his shirt inside. The cold wind grazed his skin and tingled down his spine, his biceps flexed in reflex when he threw the shirt down near his jacket.

There was a moment of silence, pure blissful silence when his eyes traced over every single object in the room, a stand with a black painted canvas placed over it.

He remembered painting that base coat the last time he was here, about a month ago. Life was busy with everything approaching, he was excited but it didn't mean that he was not exhausted.

There was a huge wall-sized canvas too, untouched. Paint, brushes, charcoal sticks, pencils, everything on the floor, just the way he left them.

"It will take a whole day to clean this," he flipped his hair back, and tied them up with the rubber band around his wrist, "Not that I'm doing it today."

He sat down on the stool facing the black canvas, his bare arms moving back and forth in the air but hesitating to pick the brushes and paint up and draw.

He sighed, then sighed again, just to sigh once again. The frustration when you want to draw when all you want is to draw but your thoughts are too clogged to flow properly.

The one picture he could feel surfacing was a white-clothed man with golden hair . . . he picked up the colour palette but dropped the brushes. There was a touch of admiration in his eyes when he dipped his fingertips in the paint, the feel of it so smooth and slippery, the earthy scent of the wet earth outside drifting in the air.

He felt drunk, so drunk that his mind felt like drifting in the air and his hands were not in his control. The smoothness of the paint and the rough texture of the canvas surface were the only anchors of his world.

His hands swirled, painting thick lines of a lean body flying in the air surrounded by a light cloth that appeared like wings. The elegance of an angel and the pain of one fallen from grace.

The lightness of skin under the white clothes, inked with whatever his mind couldn't decipher. The picture drifted in Asher's mind like a story, an untold story of love and pain.

There was something in the way the angel in his memories moved that his eyes welled up. A lone tear dropped down his cheeks to his shoulder and that's when he sobered up.

There was a moment before he realised what had happened, and an even longer moment before he realised who was on the canvas.

A tingle of amazement went down his veins and the fine hair on his back stood up, he had no idea if it was the cold breeze or he was sick but he felt the cold settling over him.

He stared at the canvas for a long moment, unconsciously rubbing his painted hand over his bare shoulders.

"What was I thinking?"

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a/n:
hi, it was pretty hard to get in the mood to write as I barely even had anyone interested in it ... so i'm really sorry if I kept any silent reader waiting. hope you enjoyed reading🫶