For Keeping Him Alive When No One Could

The charcoal stick slipped out of Rachel’s hand for the fourth time and she had half the mind to chuck it on the grown and trample it under her Louboutins. This was hard. She couldn’t get the little thing to manoeuvre the right way and there was no way in hell that she was settling for anything less than the perfect stroke. Which was why it was also the fourth time that she reached for the rubber to erase the obscenity that she had just unleashed onto the world.

“You know you can’t ace it on your first try?”

Felix muttered with an uncommitted sigh, knowing that the conversation was heading nowhere. Rachel thirsted for perfection, and even though she had a great eye for art, she could hardly move those stubby little fingers to bring to life what she loved to decorate her high end clients’ houses with. It was her fatal flaw, or what they liked to call it thanks to sappy old John, her hamartia.

“It’s like my third try. But that’s beside the point here. You do it every day, I figured how hard could it be?”

“Ouch.” He put his hand on his chest in mock hurt, his eyes still trained on the canvas in front of him before he stole a glance at her. She was smiling, which was the moment his conscience reminded him of the reason he had made her do this in the first place. Her handed reached for the stick of eraser they had been sharing just in time with him, and he could swear to all those gods his grandmother made him pray to, that he felt electricity shoot up their entangled fingers. “Only you could make drawing an empty vase look so hard. You should have quit this three tries ago Parker.” His mouth was saying the words but Rachel knew he meant far from it, especially when her last name rolled off of his tongue in his thick English lilt.

She scoffed grabbing the stick, and pushing her hair back in an exaggerated flip. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint your sagging ass, but Parkers never quit.” Rachel saw him throw his head back and laugh. The sound loud, and unabashed as it echoed in the empty art studio. It had been a long time since she had heard him laugh like that, and her heart swelled a little knowing she played a part in it. She gripped the pencil harder this time, trying to focus on the task ahead and not notice the bags that had claimed their place under his green orbs since the last three months, they had been stuck in quarantine.

These lessons were her way of pulling him out of his shell, especially when his business started falling apart and the gallery shut down. He needed these days in the sun, or Rachel was sure he’d drive himself insane. Maybe it was the adrenaline rushing through her veins or perhaps the jitters in her hand as a result that made the pencil slide the right way this time, capturing the arc of the neck. A gasp escaped her lips. It was done. This had to be her perfect one so far. If she was alone she might as well have patted herself on the back for it.

Her eyes scan the blue vase at her side, looking for any irregularities. The shading was off, and she could have done a much better job at capturing the angle the dying sunlight behind them was illuminating the vase at, but even then she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

To hell with being alone.

Felix didn’t notice Rachel patting herself on her back, even when she gave out a little gasp and then a full on cheer for her own amusement. For any other girl, it would probably be awkward and downright rude even of him to engage himself in a conversation and then just ignore them as if they didn’t even exist, but Rachel was not just any girl. She knew what art meant to him, and even though these were just some run of the mill, casual lessons and not his art classes it didn’t prevent him from venturing into his own little bubble and get lost in a world where there was only him and the empty canvas to have his way with. She saw his hands move fast and fluid from behind the easel, the expression on his face making her blush. It was only once five years ago that she had seen such complete devotion in his eyes apart from work and it had been branded in her memory for forever.

The memory like a reflex bought a familiar jab of hurt too and she looked away from him like she had that day when those eyes failed to give away anything.

“Will you marry me?” Darren’s voice echoed in her mind. “Yes.”     

It had taken her years of prodding the same memory but she could still hear how hesitant she had sounded that day, wondering how nobody heard it. She had told herself for years, it was the right thing to do but there was a small part of her that nagged and chalked it off to her hamartia. The incessant need of her to be perfect at everything. She couldn’t give a rat’s ass about it her whole life, until it made her take that decision that changed her life. Darren’s dying wish was to leave May her three year old daughter a mother to look after her. It was beautiful that he trusted her for the job after her birth mother died, she had always loved the little devil to bits and she could never not be ready to take her responsibility, but it was her better judgement that had scoffed at her for not negotiating with him. She could have very easily talked about adoption with him, but then how do you tell a dying man that you don’t want to marry them? A dying man who was your best friend since kindergarten. It wasn’t a marriage out of pity, she knew she loved him but sometimes in her worst nightmares she couldn’t help but blame the petty side of her that had begged for a reaction from those blank eyes. Felix hadn’t fought for her and it had left her heart in pieces.

“Oh my god Felix. This is soo good, thank you!” The shriek breaks Rachel out of her reverie and a smile spreads on her face before she even sees the little girl bounding towards her, pulling her down for a hug. “Look mommy. Look what Felix made me for my birthday. Can we put it in my room? It’s so pretty!” May’s eyes shone with pure admiration as she thrust the painting towards her telling her to be careful as it was still wet. Rachel pulled at the smart ass’ pigtails while nimbly grabbing the A3 sheet of paper, going numb at its sight.

Across them Felix, noted her reactions carefully, even the ones she tried to reign in for the sake of her daughter. She had gone, deathly still and he wondered if he had crossed a boundary by handing it to May before showing it to her. He had been ready with a string of apologies, when she lifted her eyes to meet his. She didn’t look upset he was certain of that, there was a gratitude in her eyes but the tears welling in them reminded him of that day.           “I love her man, I’m going to propose to her tomorrow. May needs a mother, and I figured I have close to no time left. I can’t die without telling her.”                                                      “What if she says no?” He had wanted to ask him but he knew better. She would never do that to him, it was laughable how Darren thought he was leaving her with a decision. It was mean and selfish of him, and for a second he wanted to scream at him to leave her alone. Tell him that they were in love, and had kissed not two hours ago. “What did you want to tell me?”

“I-It’s beautiful. I’m…thank you!” Rachel sniffles, her wavering voice bringing him to reality as she patted May’s head fondly and lump forms in his throat. His eyes glance towards her miniature in the painting. Her hands poised in front of the familiar easel as she finished a portrait of her family watching the sun set at their hangout from when they were kids. He hadn’t forgotten to give Darren the angel wings, May had requested for.

“No. Thank you.”