REXANNA
I have late night conversations
with the moon.
She hadn’t noticed the addition that Bastien began to paint within his painting as she told him her story. Instead, she worked hard on her painting, adding in pops of color for the blooms of flowers in the fields. And when he spoke next, she felt an accuracy to his statement deep to her core. Smiling slightly while she still stared down at the painting, moving the brush here and there to speckle the color, she spoke. “Some days it feels like an inferno.” It was quiet, but she looked back to Bastien with a small half smile. She hoped he’d still be around, to not shy away from her flames when they grew too strong. But he seemed committed, and despite burning everything she touched, she hoped that perhaps this might work.
At his next, following set of words, she turned to look at him as he focused on her painting. A small laugh escaped her lips at his praise, but she nodded nonetheless, squinting at it before looking back at the surrounding area. “It’s a piece I think that looks good from far away, but when you get close you can see here –” She paused, gesturing with the handle of a brush to the swoop of cloud that hadn’t dried just yet and how it mixed in a bit with the leaves to make it nearly invisible. “How I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it just yet.” She looked back to him and winked again. “I’m very happy with it though!” She acknowledged, giving him a wide grin before she noticed his diligent work on his own painting – and the crispness of the lines, shadows, and how he seemed to play with them all in a vibrancy that she adored.
And when she beheld herself in the image, and the gentleness he captured with the way the sun’s last few rays behind the horizon held a glow about her, she couldn’t help the fullness of her heart. “Sometimes I think you portray me far too beautifully.” She jested, smirking to him but letting her eyes follow his hands while he worked. And listened, while he began to speak of living in a place with no ruling class. She nodded in agreement, but exhaled quietly at it. “It’s hard to say who has the power to make the rules, who can give you the idea of what is the correct thing to do. I wonder if it’ll change when the barrier falls.” She paused with thought, looking back out as if she could see to the end of it, where the barrier sat and the uncertainty of where that left her. “I don’t mind it though. I’ve spent too much time in government to want to do much with it anymore. Spent far too much of it on the wrong side too.” She laughed at that, thankful to even be able to laugh at it now.
But they had that in common, in a way. Except for Rexanna, it was everything she had done was wrong and terrible and dreadful; pegged her enemy number one in the eyes of the countries she had been a part of. For Bastien, it seemed he had a way of rubbing against the grain – of not being what anyone expected. And perhaps that was what she liked the most about him, even if it infuriated her and others at times. She understood it in a way. She offered him a roguish grin at his revelation before gesturing with her hand to the world around them. “So you’ve always pissed off those of a higher power?” She asked with a small giggle of a laugh. “Is it something you aim to do? Or do you just not fit into the mold they want you to be?” She questioned, grin softening as her head tilted.
Because Rexanna, too, had never truly fit into a mold. Had never wanted to fit into one. And never really tried to be perfect. Tried to be good, yes, but never perfect.
At his next, following set of words, she turned to look at him as he focused on her painting. A small laugh escaped her lips at his praise, but she nodded nonetheless, squinting at it before looking back at the surrounding area. “It’s a piece I think that looks good from far away, but when you get close you can see here –” She paused, gesturing with the handle of a brush to the swoop of cloud that hadn’t dried just yet and how it mixed in a bit with the leaves to make it nearly invisible. “How I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it just yet.” She looked back to him and winked again. “I’m very happy with it though!” She acknowledged, giving him a wide grin before she noticed his diligent work on his own painting – and the crispness of the lines, shadows, and how he seemed to play with them all in a vibrancy that she adored.
And when she beheld herself in the image, and the gentleness he captured with the way the sun’s last few rays behind the horizon held a glow about her, she couldn’t help the fullness of her heart. “Sometimes I think you portray me far too beautifully.” She jested, smirking to him but letting her eyes follow his hands while he worked. And listened, while he began to speak of living in a place with no ruling class. She nodded in agreement, but exhaled quietly at it. “It’s hard to say who has the power to make the rules, who can give you the idea of what is the correct thing to do. I wonder if it’ll change when the barrier falls.” She paused with thought, looking back out as if she could see to the end of it, where the barrier sat and the uncertainty of where that left her. “I don’t mind it though. I’ve spent too much time in government to want to do much with it anymore. Spent far too much of it on the wrong side too.” She laughed at that, thankful to even be able to laugh at it now.
But they had that in common, in a way. Except for Rexanna, it was everything she had done was wrong and terrible and dreadful; pegged her enemy number one in the eyes of the countries she had been a part of. For Bastien, it seemed he had a way of rubbing against the grain – of not being what anyone expected. And perhaps that was what she liked the most about him, even if it infuriated her and others at times. She understood it in a way. She offered him a roguish grin at his revelation before gesturing with her hand to the world around them. “So you’ve always pissed off those of a higher power?” She asked with a small giggle of a laugh. “Is it something you aim to do? Or do you just not fit into the mold they want you to be?” She questioned, grin softening as her head tilted.
Because Rexanna, too, had never truly fit into a mold. Had never wanted to fit into one. And never really tried to be perfect. Tried to be good, yes, but never perfect.
he tells me about the sun,
and i tell him about you.
BASTIEN
