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“And then he had the gall to call me a ‘mythic bitch’! Whatever that means. So I grabbed my helmet and…”
Glam nodded along as his wife paced in front of their bed, ranting to him about the misfortunes of her day. Sitting up against the frame, he was hunched over the sketchpad on his lap, tracing over a few construction lines he had mapped out on the page as a reference.
Pulling back for a brief moment, he pressed his lips as he studied what he had drawn so far, unsatisfied with the fuzzy lines that his dull pencil had created. Next time, he would make sure it was properly sharpened before jumping into a new piece.
But, even with the faulty utensil at hand, he refused to let this sketch remain unfinished.
Not when he had the perfect muse right in front of him.
“But I punched him in the gut, sending him flying right into the bricks.” Vicky continued, “He got so pissed off that he took out a…”
Glam watched carefully as she mimed the actions in her story- the way her muscles contracted as she swung her arms all around her. The way her lips curled with every curse word she snarled.
It was such a privilege to witness.
He could feel his face growing warm as he translated every small nuance of her body onto the page in front of him.
“And I was covered head to toe in it! All the while, that bastard was just standing there laughing at me…”
Adding a few more strokes to his sketch, Glam toned her arms before giving her legs the same treatment. Then, he moved onto her braid, building off of the long, elegantly curved guideline he had marked at the start. Although the Vicky in front of him had let her hair loose for the night, he felt his drawing would be incomplete without her signature style in action. He wished he had the right utensils to color in her beautiful, fiery locks, but he would just have to work around his limitations.
Satisfied with the base he had drawn, he made the final lines a little bolder before filling in the shadows to add more depth. Then, he quickly sketched up a few smaller figures around her- nothing too intricate, but still detailed enough to properly set the scene.
Once he was done, he held the sketchpad up slightly to get a better look, eyes flicking back and forth between the drawing and the muse it was based on. After tweaking a few lines here and there, he returned the sketchbook back to his lap, nodding to himself in approval.
“It was so stupid. The whole street was filling up with those idiots! Can you believe-”
The sound of tearing paper pulled Vicky out of her rant. Irritated, she snapped her head towards the bed, glaring at her nonchalant husband. “Glam, what the fuck? Are you even listening to-”
Without a word, he held out a single sheet of paper, offering it to Vicky. Bewildered, she drew closer, skeptically eyeing the page before grabbing it from him.
Practically frozen in place, she stared at her husband’s art piece, at this… Valkyrie goddess version of herself that was mowing down her opponents with a baseball bat. It was sketchy and rough, with some of the construction lines still visible under the main form, but it only added to the charm.
There was so much detail and attention put into it, like Glam had witnessed everything first hand and managed to flawlessly capture it on paper. It reminded her of the first drawings she had ever shown her- how he managed to recreate her likeliness so perfectly despite only seeing her for a fleeting moment.
Between all the art he made and the way he could shred a guitar, the man was really good with his hands…
“You drew me? Again?” She finally asked, tints of red creeping up on her freckled cheeks.
“How could I not? I felt inspired watching you recount your day.” Glam chirped, “Although I did take some artistic liberties, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, well it’s- I, um- you really, uh…” Vicky sputtered out, scratching the back of her head as she struggled to find her words again. “It looks good.” She eventually managed to say, masking her nervous chuckle with a fake cough.
“I’m glad you like it, Vicky.” He beamed at her, politely folding his hands in front of him. “Now, what happens next in your story?”
“Oh, right!” She exclaimed, getting back into a fighting stance. “Well, then I took out my… then he got up and…” She puckered her lips, voice trailing off before she could get a full sentence out. Relaxing her body, she turned to face her husband. “Huh. I don’t remember.”
“Oh that’s a shame.” Glam tutted. “I’d be more than happy to continue listening if you recall what comes next.”
“Yeah, sure…” She muttered absently, eyes wandering back to the paper in her hand. Blushing lightly, she tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “Do you really see me like that?” She asked, her voice oddly quiet and shy.
“Of course!” Her husband happily replied, “The way you move, the way you talk… there’s such a strength and beauty to it.” He sighed wistfully, his eyes distant and dreamy. “You carry an energy that’s just so powerful. It’s had a hold on me from the moment I saw you devouring that hot dog on the sidewalk.”
As she listened to his musings, Vicky couldn’t keep herself from giggling, her face as red as a strawberry at that point. “Oh, get over here, you flirt.” Throwing the sketch onto the ground, she tackled her husband onto the bed, pulling him by the collar for a kiss.
Eager to follow her lead, Glam instinctively wrapped one hand over her waist, using the other to slide his sketchpad under the pillow behind him.
The rest of his drawings would have to wait until morning.