Work Text:
The canvas is already half-filled, his picture forming nicely, but it scarcely compares to the image of perfection Basil strives to recreate, which makes him all the more conscious of the golden youth who is now staring off into space, lounging on the sofa. Close yet unfathomable, Basil knows. So he returns his concentration to the painting, intent on making each of its colours vibrant as though with life itself, every single line refined with beauty. The desire to reach past his talent, to challenge it and bend it until it snaps, overcomes him completely.
Dorian watches him stumble, smiling.