Work Text:
This time her canvas is rather big. Mitsuri carefully brings her cup with her trusted brushes and pens and places it on the nearby table, her paint bottles scattered everywhere. To anyone’s eyes, her studio is nothing short of a mess, but those who know her well are aware that this mess has a purpose. Everything is in an order only she understands.
Well…
“Where did I put the cobalt blue paint?”
…Sometimes.
Before she could panic about it, a hand approached from behind. Soft, gentle fingers quietly gripping on her waist as the other hand points far away at the table’s corner. Her ears perk up at the sweet, lovingly sound of her partner’s voice bringing some clarity in her work.
“It’s right there, dear,” she says, and her voice carries a hint of teasing despite the tenderness of the near-whisper tone.
“You’re here!” Mitsuri almost yells with a smile. On any other day, it takes Shinobu hours to wake up and get going, but that wasn't the case today. How fortunate, for her plans are centered entirely on her girlfriend. “Did you sleep well, love?” she asked, and she lowered her voice after noticing how loud her greeting was.
“I did.” Shinobu smiles as she places her chin on Mitsuri’s shoulder, her eyes still half closed, following the haze of her dreams. Her arms gently wrap around the artist’s waist, pressing their bodies together. “Did you?”
“I-I did!” Mitsuri answers, her cheeks already burning hot. To this day, she still can’t get used by the fact her feelings, overwhelming as they can be, are reciprocated. Worse, it seems her partner is head over heels for her, and sometimes even more clingy than Mitsuri could ever be.
“Good,” she whispers, gently nuzzling her face into the crook of her neck. It tickles.
Mitsuki chuckles faintly at the giddy feeling and of her girlfriend hugging her from behind, her racing heartbeat slowly calming down as she carefully prepares everything for her new art piece. She already got the set ready; the brushes are all in place and were thoroughly cleaned– I know, right ?–, and her canvas was already prepped last night. All that’s left to start with her new work was her muse, slowly falling asleep again as she leans into her.
“Did you eat breakfast?” Mitsuri speaks with the same teasing tone Shinobu used on her.
“I did,” she answers, giving her a sidelong glance.
“Hmmm,” she ponders, “should I go check?” Mitsuri nudges.
“No need,” Shinobu answers as she steps back, slowly disentangling herself from their embrace. “It took me longer than usual, but I managed to eat it all.”
“Is that why you’re tired?” Mitsuri turns around to face her, a mix of concern and tenderness in her gaze as she searches for any hint of discomfort in Shinobu’s eyes. “You know we don’t have to start right away—”
Shinobu gently cups her face, her thumb carefully pressing her lips in her own attempt to shush her girlfriend. “I’m okay, dear. I’m here because I want to do this. Otherwise, I would’ve slept a little more.” She leans her head down, looking at her girlfriend from below with a teasing gaze.
Mitsuri snorts slightly, a short nod agreeing with her. “I guess you’re right. You won’t waste a chance to sleep a little more,” she speaks while grinning, gently holding Shinobu’s wrist as she rubs her head against her hand.
Her girlfriend smiles fondly in response, stepping back after their daily pets and hugs session. She crosses her arms, tilting her head as she takes a long stare at the set displayed in front of them. “So,” she begins, she seems awake now, “what is the plan this time?”
Right, Mitsuri forgot. From this point on, Shinobu is more than her girlfriend, her partner, her future wife, perhaps. She’s her muse, her model. The source of her inspiration in her art, the reason she hasn’t quit, the daily motivation that made her notice her full potential in this world. From here on, their relationship merges into her work, her love translated into an empty canvas.
“A portrait,” she whispers, her voice filled with affection. “You’ll sit here,” she walks forward into the set she arranged for her. There’s a chair where Shinobu can sit comfortably, surrounded by different flowers, a white background behind.
“Oh? That’s new,” she speaks with a fond smile, slowly walking in front of the seat, sitting down while keeping eye contact. “I suppose I’ll just have to sit like this, yes?”
“Yes!” Mitsuri grins, her hands clapping together. She’s so excited. Every opportunity she gets to draw or paint her gorgeous girlfriend makes her heart leap with joy. The moment she agreed to do another painting with her as Mitsuri’s muse, she was so eager she started working on the set right away.
All the flowers are from their garden. Mitsuri doesn’t know much about the meaning of them the way her girlfriend does, but she knows Shinobu is growing them for a reason. Maybe some are poisonous, and if so, they still look pretty enough surrounding her frame, contrasting her pale skin.
In a way, it fits her so well.
Mitsuri sits down, using her pencil to measure the perspective. She shifts slightly, moving her seat to find a better angle. Shinobu looks dazzling under the morning light, the vibrant colors of each flower matching her violet gaze. Their eyes lock together every now and then, stealing soft smiles from each other every time they cross paths.
The person she met at a common class in their college days was not as different as the person she’s painting today. Her lips spill the same poison she remembers, though, yet just like then, it was never directed at Mitsuri. She remembers how people would label her as fake, yet the person she shares her life with today has always been genuine in her feelings. In fact, it was that honesty that drew them together to begin with.
When it comes to sketching her girlfriend, Mitsuri finishes really quickly. During her crushing days, she’d draw her beloved in different scenarios, outfits, and expressions. It was such a crucial part of her routine; she came to memorize every step in her art progress. The day Shinobu discovered her sketchbook full of doodles of her, she really thought she was done for. Yet she found in her reaction an eagerness to be drawn and painted in a bigger canvas.
Which is why they’re here today. This is the third painting of Shinobu Kocho, the woman that stole her heart years ago. An ode to her devoted love and affection for her girlfriend, her partner, her confidant. Each stroke of her pen is as eager as the previous one, her hand moving on her own.
It takes her a few couple minutes to get to the main sketch, and she can see the weariness in her partner’s gaze on the other side of the canvas. Mitsuri smiles warmly, her cheeks flushing red at the sight. Dear God, she loves her girlfriend so much.
“The sketch is done; do you want to see it? We can take a break afterwards, dear.”
“A break sounds fine,” she speaks with a fatigued voice, smiling lazily. “And I want to see.” She smiles, walking around the canvas, right behind Mitsuri. Her hands are placed on her shoulders with tenderness, squeezing softly as she leans closer to look at all the details on what’s just the first step in her painting process.
She seems speechless for a second, which only worries Mitsuri.
“Is… is everything alright?”
Shinobu snaps out of her stillness, smiling warmly at her. “Dearest, it seems you have improved a lot since the last time. You amaze me.”
Mitsuri’s cheeks burn red, it's like she can feel steam coming from her face.
In a well-known unaccepting society, something they tell you about living together with the person you love is that you’ll find everything monotonous over time. In their case, however, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Every single compliment coming from her girlfriend sends shivers down her spine, almost like electricity running through her veins all the way to her heart. She falls harder and harder for her girlfriend every single day that goes by, and something inside her tells her this already immense love will only grow bigger the more time they spend together.
“Is… is that so?” she speaks softly, her voice high pitched like a squeal.
Shinobu leans closer, her hands sliding down her shoulders to her arms, her chin now teasingly resting on the crook of her neck. Her voice is but a whisper, the feeling of her breath tingling on her ear. Even if she can’t see her and make direct eye contact, she can tell how wide her girlfriend’s smile is.
“You’re such an amazing artist, dear,” the artwork speaks with her partner’s voice.
It is but the first step of her art process. Not even she can feel such confidence at this point the way her girlfriend does on her behalf. Each sentence that follows hammers inside her heart, deeper into the core of her soul.
Shinobu’s hand gently reaches for hers, the coldness of her skin warming up against her. She can see her short, purple nails gently guiding Mitsuri’s hand to turn and hold hers. The touch is so small, almost a second nature to them, yet it feels so intimate. Mitsuri slowly turns her head, their noses touching.
“I remember when I saw one of your paintings long ago,” Shinobu whispers with gentleness. “I already had my eyes on you, but your art was what really made me act in the end.”
Mitsuri smiles up to her gaze. “Oh?”
“For the longest time, I hoped,” she mumbles. “How mutual her feelings are? How does she see me? I wonder if the image of me is near similar how I see her…”
Mitsuri can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I wasn’t good at hiding that, you know?”
Shinobu’s smile is as genuine as ever. “I couldn’t help but second-guess myself.”
She can’t help but laugh at her partner’s words. Slowly, Shinobu walks around her, slowly making way to her lap. She sits down comfortably, her arms now surrounding Mitsuri’s shoulders. It makes her sigh warmly, it’s like she belongs there, like they were truly meant to be. They fit each other perfectly.
Mitsuri’s hands gently wrap on her waist, leaving aside all the tools she was holding in her hands. They look at each other in a stretching silence, yet none of them the faintiest bit uncomfortable. It’s almost as if they both know what’s coming next.
The painting is, now, long forgotten.
With their gaze fixed on each other with a burning fire only they can share, the change of the air surrounding them is almost immediate. It thickens with each passing second as they lean closer and closer, their lips just barely an inch apart now. The delicate, warm tickle of her girlfriend’s breath makes her smile gently before claiming her beloved as her own.
She’ll never get over this, ever. As they deepen the kiss, Mitsuri quickly notices her heart beats quickly just like the first time. It’s all so new, yet so part of their routine. The sweet, honeyed flavor of her girlfriend’s lips, the soft and mellow feeling of their bodies pressing together, their hands moving across to get a grasp of the reality of everything.
Belonging somewhere, in the arms of their partner, never felt as real as today.
There’s almost an electric tension between them, something that didn’t fade in all these years. Even in the midst of their routine, there’s so much yet to discover and learn. Like, for example, nowadays she found a liking to carefully place a hand on Shinobu’s nape to pull her impossibly closer, which is a gesture well received by her girlfriend, who sighs warmly in response.
Dear God, they could do this for hours. At least Mitsuri can easily keep it going for more than just fleeting minutes. Yet, deep inside, she knows there’s the rest of the day ahead, and they can’t get lost in each other. She gently nudges Shinobu, who perks up at her touch.
They break the kiss with a gentle chuckle, Mitsuri’s hand quickly tucks a strand of hair messily adorning her face. Her thumb gently touches Shinobu’s forehead, her fingers running through the silky strands that fall like ink down her shoulders. She tilts her head but slightly before cupping her girlfriend’s face.
Her girlfriend’s cheeks are tinted the most beautiful shade of pink, and her lips are slightly parted, the air between them warms further with their ragged breaths. The sight is nothing short from addictive to her eyes. Oh, well. She can’t say she tried to focus on the task at hand. Maybe the painting can wait a little.
“Should we take a break from the painting?” she musters.
“…I believe the painting can wait a little,” Shinobu answers with a teasing smile.