"Rexanna, how could you? You know if a dress is seen twice the eyes of the rich burn!" Bastien laughed, feigning shock and offence with a hand clasped over his chest and a tilt of his head backward.
He paused with his head still slightly back as she spoke of people with wings and magic in her world...previously he had been joking about Heaven, but looking at her now in the gold dress, speaking of such things, Bastien began to truly wonder if she had once been with the angels. Though the people she had been with did not seem virtuous. "Cara, there is nothing in you that should be covered up with deceit. Your honest self is the most beautiful I have seen. Perhaps the people in your husband's family were winged, but they were not wise."
Rexanna seemed to like the painting, her smile something he drank in gladly. It had been too long since he had had his work admired; he gave a small bow and placed it back on the canvas. "Thank you. It is not finished, but it is a good beginning, I think. Of course, the work would be nothing without my muse and model. An artist is only as good as his subject." Saying this he walked to the couch, knelt before it and took her hand, kissed her fingers.
"And my subject is radiant. Shall we have that wine?"
He paused with his head still slightly back as she spoke of people with wings and magic in her world...previously he had been joking about Heaven, but looking at her now in the gold dress, speaking of such things, Bastien began to truly wonder if she had once been with the angels. Though the people she had been with did not seem virtuous. "Cara, there is nothing in you that should be covered up with deceit. Your honest self is the most beautiful I have seen. Perhaps the people in your husband's family were winged, but they were not wise."
Rexanna seemed to like the painting, her smile something he drank in gladly. It had been too long since he had had his work admired; he gave a small bow and placed it back on the canvas. "Thank you. It is not finished, but it is a good beginning, I think. Of course, the work would be nothing without my muse and model. An artist is only as good as his subject." Saying this he walked to the couch, knelt before it and took her hand, kissed her fingers.
"And my subject is radiant. Shall we have that wine?"
Bastien
With a flash of the ankle, snarl of the lip
I see you in the street and gasp
Cause only Anarchists are pretty
I see you in the street and gasp
Cause only Anarchists are pretty
