Poetic Imagery (Kaspider & Princess Kristin)

[Kaspider]

Adam loved drawing ever since he was a child. He loved to draw and write then at the age of 16, he was gifted his first ever Kodak. From there, he was in love with photography. He had tried several types of photography but he particularly enjoyed taking pictures of humans, particularly women. Setting up his small photography office not far from Florida, he let the ad companies know that there was an ambitious photographer available for them.

He didn't get a single customer and it had been six months. He wasn't pushing it enough. The Internet was new and hardly anybody was using it at the turn of the century. He decided to take a trip to Florida to see what the situation was like. He knew that if he kept sitting in his office all day, nothing was going to happen and the money was disappearing rapidly.

He booked a hotel and during the day, he hit the roads. He contacted different modelling agencies to see if they were hiring a photographer. Nothing. He was spending his last cents here. After this, he was broke.

On the third day, he found himself standing in front of a publishing house. They published magazines and newspapers. He entered to see an impressive reception. With a bit of difficulty, he managed to set a meeting with the head of the house. He had to wait one and a half hour to see her. Finally, he was led through a door to enter a small messy office. An oversized lady was seated behind the table flickering through huge piles of paper and shouting at the two girls who were nervously juggling different kinds of papers and sometimes picking them from the floor. The office was a mess, Adam concluded.

She finally paid him attention and started asking questions. It seemed she was in need of a photographer. She also asked if he could draw. He nodded to that. He sketched a lot in his early years.

To his surprise, he was hired. Now all he needed to do was not upset this fat lady because the way she was shouting at those poor girls, he swore she could eat them alive. As he was about to exit the office, he bumped into a figure outside the door. He recoiled and handled himself then focused on the figure. A figure she was. Dressed in red with the same colour of lipstick, she was a beauty in her own league. Her black hair were all over the place due to the collision and her face looked like she had bumped her car into something and now she didn't know what to do. Her red coat was flawless with a glimpse of white shirt peeking underneath covering her bosom.

“I'm very sorry, Miss…” Adam began. He was already excited about the job. It was pouring out from him. All he wanted to do was go outside and scream. “Are you here for an interview also? Because that lady, even though she looks angry, she is actually in a good mood. You're in luck.”

[Temple Drake]

Jolie Meadows had written Shakespearean sonnets since she was 12 years old.  The sonnets were always sensual and romantic, far beyond the experience of her young years.  It was just one more thing about that her that made her an outsider in the her small southern north Florida town.  It was only when she moved off to college and began publishing and meeting friends in the publishing industry, other artists, writers, poets that she ever felt she fit in.  The literary magazine world was her true hometown.

It's why she started volunteering at a journal where she was a frequent contributor.  Even though Marla Wyatt, the editor of Enchanted Pages, was a bear of a human to deal with in person, Jolie was happy every time she walked into the doors of their offices.  Just to be a part of a community of writers and artists, in the midst of their energy and creativity.  This place made Jolie feel at home, even when with Marla's chaotic, gruff energy.  It was the energy of creation, and it was a magnet to this budding poet.

Today was no different than most in this regard.  As she made her way to Marla's office, she heard a commotion of assistants scurrying to bring mockups of pages to Marla.  Distracted by this commotion, Jolie didn't notice the other figure barreling out towards her until he made contact.   He was hanme and charismatic in the artistic way of this place and its occupants.  When he spoke his voice was kind and approachable with an undertone of something, an intriguing dark mystery that tickled something inside of her.  He was asking about a job, if she was here for an interview.  Jolie was immediately disarmed and smiled.

"An interview?  No.  I'm a volunteer here.  Well, I mean, I write for the magazine and I just like to be a part of the process so I --"  Jolie heard her longwinded explanation and clammed up.  This is what she did when she was nervous.  She ran on about things too much.  And she was nervous talking to this kind stranger.  She'd just stopped herself from admitting the real embarrassing reason she liked to volunteer here.  She was lonely.  She wanted to make friends. 

She looked away from the stranger's probing gaze, let her eyes fall to the floor and waited. 

[Kaspider]

Adam was still smiling as she looked in her eyes as a normal person would do during conversation. She was beautiful, yes. He was imagining her sitting on the couch and him drawing on a canvas. Well, that was a new thought. He never thought of drawing someone before with hand. He was a photographer. He liked to take photos with his Kodak but drawing was his another one of his hobbies.

“Don't you two stand there and let the cold in, “ Marla literally shouted at them. It seemed this was her normal pitch of speaking.  “Come in here, Jolie and you too, what's your name? Adam, yes. Come on in and close the door. It's enough cold as it is in here.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. Cold? The room was boiling hot because of the heaters and Marla herself. Even the two girls standing on either side glanced at each other and nervously smiled catching the joke.

“Jolie, this man here is looking for a job. He likes taking pictures which can come in handy but we all about words here, ain't we? That comic strip guy left us last week. See if Adam can write a good comic strip. Show him the room where he has to work and help him out, will ya? I have a lot on my plate. Now off you go. Right girls, where are the files I was looking for?”

They were left alone as Marla focused on her work. They scurried out of the office to stand outside with the door closed this time. “Well, Miss Jolie. Mind if you show me the ropes of this place? I'd like to get started as soon as I can. I believe you have to conjure up the good mood in order to write a funny comic strip. I hope you could keep me ‘good company’ and perhaps we can share some ideas.” He spoke as they started headed in the direction of the room or wherever Jolie was taking him.

[Temple Drake]

When Adam talked about "a good mood" being conjured, Jolie could understand and sympathize entirely.  She knew the challenges of creating under pressure.  And at this magazine, there was nothing but pressure.  This was not a place of a lot of warm, cozy feelings.  She'd grown accustom to it and tried in her own way to brighten the mood and be a positive light to others. 

Looking at this man, though, she felt a more personal pull to make him feel comfortable in this hostile environment.  They wandered down the hall to the comic strip room filled with chaos and writers bodies.  They were squeezed together a bit, and her fingers grazed his, and there was that buzz of undeniable electricity humming inside her skin.  It made the corners of her mouth turn up a little and a slight hint of heat in her cheeks. But she contained herself.  She was at work, in a place she was respected and trying to make an even greater name for herself.  She was with a stranger, and she knew she must behave.

They entered the comic strip room at last, and Adam attention shifted back to art. There were stools and tables filled with all sorts of pencils and paper and it seemed to draw him like a magnet.  She could feel his mood lighten even more.

"Well, it looks like you're very at home here, Adam.  Do you think you're in a  creative mood yet, or do require further cheering up?"  Jolie looked at Adam with a small mischievous grin, trying to be coy but on the inside feeling like a high school who just met the cute new boy in school. 

[Kaspider]

The room was pretty large but cramped with people with their heads glued on the table trying to work. Surely, they all were not working for one comic strip. All of this showed him the scale of the work and publishing that was been done here. For a minute, Adam felt squeezed in the group of people that were exiting through the same door. During the process, he and Jolie were squeezed together. “This is all overwhelming for sure. Having been spent six months in an office alone hoping for work and now this. But I love the smell of paper here. Oh, look here is an empty desk with some paper and pencils. Let me draw you something.”

It only took ten minutes to draw a rough sketch of a fat woman who looked like Marla sitting in her office shouting at a working girl. “Brightens up the mood, doesn't it?” he shouted over the chaos that was around them. “So tell me about yourself. Do you take interest in drawing or photography for that matter?”

[Temple Drake]

While Jolie watched Adam draw, her eyes traveled down his neck as he bent over doodling to his broad shoulders down his back.  She felt at liberty from her stance behind him to gawk freely and take him in.  Then she noticed his eyes shift from the paper towards her to the side, and she quickly averted her eyes back to the paper.  She noticed the heft of the woman he was drawing and for a moment was a little offended.  Was he drawing her?  Is this how he saw her?  The she realized as he filled in details it was clearly Marla, and she was relieved.  It felt for a minute that the window of something that had just begun was now closing.  The realization that it hadn't made her smile.
Then he was laughing, almost like he felt her relief too.  He asked if the funny picture had brightened the dour mood of the place they were?  She giggled and felt silly like a schoolgirl as she listened to her nervous titter coming through as she started to talk.  He'd asked about herself and her interests, photography, drawing?

"Ha.  No.  I've no visual talent I'm afraid.  I can just write poetry and read true crime books and literature.  But writing poems, it's something I've always done, and it helps me engage with this world, you know -- like it brought me here.  To this place with all these interesting people and now most of all you." 

She heard that last part come out and a heat rise in her cheeks -- it sounded so personal and excited.  She was all that.  She just hadn't meant to betray it.  It's why she was a writer.  This personal, verbal stuff got her all the time.

[Kaspider]

Adam looked at her for extra two seconds then he shifted his eyes. She had only met him and already she uttered something very personal. She had mentioned him in a very personal way and he was taken aback from that.

But it made the reverse effect on him. Instead of pulling away from her, he was drawn to her. There was something about this woman which pulled him right from the start when he laid his eyes on her. He knew his weakness was beautiful women. His job was to photograph women and highlight their beauty. External beauty. But he saw the inner beauty in this woman, standing in front of him dressed in red. Suddenly, he felt the urge to draw her on a canvas while she read one of her poems. He wanted to draw the emotions of her face, the feelings in her heart. He could tell she was holding oceans of emotions in herself.

Adam smiled warmly looking up at her. “Well then, if you have a bookshelf at home then you're bound to have some drawing pencils and a blank paper. Just sit down and draw something. That is visual art. You have an image in your head and you transfer it on a canvas. Like this.” He held up the piece of paper with Marla shouting at the girl. “This image is stuck inside my head and I put it on the paper. Now everytime you see Marla, you will think of this instance.”

He scrunched the paper and threw it in the bin before anybody saw it. His smile was gone but his face was soft and gentle, a hint of seduction in his voice. “I do try to put perfect things on the paper too. Sometimes they fail, other times I am successful.” His fingers touched hers slightly, unnoticed as she stood at the side of the table. “I photograph people. I like taking photos of women. Not model's photographs but normal everyday women. Like yourself.”

[Temple Drake]

Jolie was listenting to Adam's voice and daydreaming, feeling the heat of his fingers grazing hers.  It didn't really factor that he was touching her though until it did, and she looked down abruptly and then shyly at his face.  He was talking to her about drawing like it was the most simple thing in the world -- that one could just pick up a pencil and paper and produce an image like him.  To her, it was unfathomable magic.  She had no idea how people managed it.  It was one more thing about this strange, open, charming man that drew her to him.

Jolie had a lot of deep secrets.  They floated under the surface like tentacled creatures in the dark ocean of her poetry.  She felt deeply and was easily wounded and also easily charmed by people.  She'd learn going through life in these sorts of social encounters to try to stay aloof and noncommittal in these sorts of engagements so as not to come across like the eager puppy that she truly was -- a wellspring of emotion and passion waiting to erupt with the right catalyst.

Adam's dark eyes were that catalyst.  All her defenses were down.  He seemed to see right through her, past the defenses to her raw depths.  He was talking to her about drawing and modeling.  She saw her opening to get to know him better, and she took it eagerly, a twinkle in her big eager puppy dog brown eyes she could not contain. 

"How about this?  You want to take pictures of a woman -- like me, right?  And I want to learn to draw.  Maybe we could help each other.  I'll model for drawing lessons.  Would that be acceptable?" 

[Kaspider]

Adam wished he had his camera right here with him. The way she was looking at him, he wanted to capture it. She was slightly flushed, looking down as if making a decision. He took this time to explore her face. She had all the right stuff for a healthy photogenic person. He especially liked her lips and smile.
Then she looked up with those eyes…eager eyes. Adam smiled at once. “That is great. We could definitely help each other out. But we'll have to do it somewhere private right? I'm actually staying at a hotel. Now that I got a small job, I'm going to look for a small room or something. If you have any suggestions or know such a place then please let me know. I want to start working as soon as possible.”

All that was fun but work came first. He actually drew something for the paper after looking at several sample strips. Jolie stayed there with him all the while. They never touched again but he could feel the excitement erupting from her. There was something inside him too. For the first time after a long while, he was going to do something he loved. To draw a woman on a canvas. This was going to be amazing.

[Temple Drake]

Jolie blushed at the word "hotel."  Though she was wildly attracted to this man agreeing to meet him at his hotel just seemed patently throwing herself at him in a way she was uncomfortable with presently.  She'd never thought the day would start with inviting a strange man back to her house, but that seemed the obvious and only thing to do.  They couldn't take pictures and give drawing lessons in public.  She'd be embarrassed modeling and distracted from the much needed instruction that it would require to produce any semblance of an illustration.  There was really only one thing to do. 

"I don't live very far from here.  Like five minutes.  I'm busy tonight, and I'm sure you're -- I mean, new to town and all, I'm sure you've got a  lot on your plate to get straightened out.  I'm free tomorrow night if that's doable for you.  I can give you directions."

She leaned over and picked up a pencil and paper and smelled his dark, inviting scent as she did. 

"I'll draw you a map.  I can do that much.  Then you can teach me more.  If tomorrow night is okay?"

[Kaspider]

Adam nodded his head as she spoke about having free time tomorrow night. Night? She was asking him to come at night? Alright. He didn't mind at all.

Then she leaned over to grab the paper and her hair fell in the front almost hitting his face. Oh, she smelled lovely. He watched her draw some directions and a map. “That's pretty good. I think I know where that is. So tomorrow night it is, Miss Jolie. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He put his hand forward to shake hers. Her soft hands grazed his as he smiled at her. He was already imagining her on the couch laying and him slowly drawing on a paper. “I'll be buying some drawing accessories and then I'll come over. Make sure you have your best poems out to read. I love to hear good poetry while I'm drawing.”

[Temple Drake]

When Jolie leaned over to draw the map for Adam, her hair awkwardly in front of him.  It embarrassed her for a minute.  Reminded her how horrible she was at these social interactions that other people managed with such seeming ease and competence.  She was always just a little off, doing things like this that made her efforts feel clumsy and made her lose her confidence.  She felt her cheeks burn, but when she looked at Adam he was smiling.  He was clearly pleased with what he saw.  Her spirits lifted and she finished the map.

When he reached out and shook her hand after the map was drawn, her fingers shook nervously inside his strong hand.  He was looking at her like he could see into her soul.  She felt as exposed in front of him suddenly as if she was doing some erotic photography.  It made her a little unsteady on her feet, and she tried to grab the table to steady herself as unobtrusively as possible. 

All she thought about on the drive home and the next day, beyond what to wear, was what poetry to pick out.  He was expecting her to read poetry.  She was very nervous about this.  She knew she would stammer and blush through her provocative pieces.  She had been trying to look all day for the most innocuous pieces that were easy to read and not feel too on the spot.  She'd never felt comfortable about reading and now with this handsome man coming, it seemed more imperative than ever to nail it.  She was still second guessing her choices when the doorbell rang.

[Kaspider]

Adam left the office in good spirits. He had completed a couple of comic strips and handed them to the lady who was managing his department. He was glad he never got to see Marla again. She can stay in her office for all he cared. The building had a good vibe to it overall. The people were nice and the pay was good. He had to start somewhere. In a couple of days, the publishing house will let him know that if he had the job or not. Then he had to arrange a place to live here and tidy up the mess back home too. He might just do the photography thing as a side hobby because photography was his passion.

But that was for later. Right now, as he left the building, he went straight to a stationary store to buy pencils and colours and sheets. He just hoped Jolie had a canvas board or something large for him to draw on. They could improvise. He didn't mind.

He went to his hotel and practiced his drawing on a rough book. Different sketches and different shapes. He did this for hours, letting his creative juices flow. He was a little bit nervous because he hadn't drawn a woman in a long time.

The next day was much busier. He didn't get to see Jolie a lot. Only a glimpse at lunch. He completed a lot of strips today, thanks to his practice last night. It was showing its colours. The manager was pretty impressed by his work today. She announced that Marla said his position is permanent here. Marla really did say that? It was hard to believe. He was happy nonetheless as he signed his permanent contract as a comic sketcher in this publishing house. It was also the weekend so a champagne could not hurt him.

He wanted to speak to Jolie but he never saw her. Their date…meeting was on so he went to his hotel, had something to eat, showered, took a casual shirt trousers out. Nothing too formal.

He left the hotel at 6 pm, and purchased a bottle of champagne then drove to the instructions Jolie gave him. He pressed the door bell, holding the cold champagne in his hand and a small bag over his shoulder. He put his best smile on.

“I got the permanent job so I bought the champagne. I hope you don't mind,” was what he was going to say once she opened the door. He was ready for this.

[Temple Drake]

Jolie was sitting on a crimson velvet couch in a black lace sundress with a handful of carefully picked poems on the table in front of her when the doorbell rang.  She'd chose the five she had because they were innocent and whimsical.  One was about a princess, one was about a kitten and one was about a favorite old movie of hers.  They were all romantic and sensual with a hint of her idealistic young soul.  They were carefully selected out of a mass of work that included a darker side -- poems of a more secretive nature that she wasn't ready to show such an attractive stranger so soon.  Like her dress, her image of herself with this man was carefully selected.  Though she was indeed very complex, Jolie wanted to show her simplest, purest self.  She hoped as the doorbell rang she had chosen well.

When she opened the door and saw Adam standing there with the champagne and the art supplies looking so attractive and beguiling, her heart raced.  She felt a pull of something much more complex than this simple schoolgirlish poems she had chosen to present.  She tried to take a deep breath and hoped the flush of heat on her cheeks didn't show too much.  She smiled and invited him inside, taking the chilled wet bottle from his warm, strong hands whose touch only made her feel more lost in the emotion of the moment.

"I thought we could work in the living room.  I --"  she had to pause hearing herself begin to stammer nervously talking to this man, feeling like a young, awkward girl like she always did when she was infatuated with a man.  "Let me get some glasses.  If you could open this -- just have a seat on the couch, if you'd like."

Jolie hurried into the kitchen to retrieve the glasses, her hands shaking, her voice weak.  How in the world was she going to read poems to this man -- even silly childish poems like these?  Especially silly childish poems like these.  Somehow her choice to not show her adult side in her writing now seemed strangely more intimate than if she had.  Maybe he would forget.  Then as she was leaning up to grab two champagne flutes from a cabinet, she realized:  I've just left him out there with the poetry right there in front of him.  What if he's already reading it.  She felt mortified at the thought of it and hurried back with the glasses as quickly as she could.

[Kaspider]

Adam was greeted by a beautiful barefooted Jolie wearing a black lace dress. The very first day he saw her in red and he loved it. Now, black suited her well too. She looked pretty. His smile never disappeared as he showed her the bottle of champagne and walked in. He put the champagne on the table and took his coat off to reveal a casual shirt he wore. It was very comfortable. He selected it carefully. He was going to spend a lot of time standing and drawing her so he needed something comfortable.

“Living room looks good and that couch is beautiful,” he said, looking around the spacious living room then looking at the crimson velvet couch. That must have been an antique or something. Jolie had a good taste.

He nodded when she announced that she was going to get glasses for the champagne. His attention was towards the wooden board which stood in the corner. He could use that as a canvas. He walked to the board and guessed the measurements. Perfect. He put the canvas in front of the red couch, gave it some distance so he could see the background, then he set the perfect angle. The next step was lighting. He walked over to the couch and scanned the room. The lighting was a little bit dim. Maybe he could get Jolie to adjust that. He spotted unorganised pages at the side of the couch hidden away on a small square table. Just for the intention of checking the lighting contrast, he picked up one of the sheet. The header said:

Good Girl Gone

You know that it is over when you go

to see him after midnight, dressed

In babydoll pajamas the breeze blows

up on your way inside.  Think how impressed

he’ll be with such a cheeky surprise.  Use

your key and climb in bed, the place he should

...

There was more to read but he heard the clinking of glasses from the corner, and he put the piece of paper back on the little side table in a panic. It was hard to come up with the smile because he had just read something…naughty and shocking? Quickly, he sat down on the sofa and waited for Jolie to emerge. She was just round the corner.

“So I was thinking you sitting here with one hand on the side arm and your poetry in the other hand.” He just started talking when she appeared. She stood there in the doorway holding two glasses up. “And that dress is perfect. Black against red. Nice.”

Adam hoped he wasn't talking too quickly and coming across as nervous. He composed himself and thought about why he was here. He was here to draw this beautiful woman. He stood up and walked over to the champagne, popped it open and waited for Jolie to come over. He poured two glasses and held his up.

“Couldn't have done it without you!” That was his toast. He sipped his drink as he admired her face. Her ‘good girl’ face or was she hiding something? It was none of his business anyway! “What kind of lipstick do you think will go with the dress and the couch or would you like to change your dress to something else?”

[Temple Drake]

By the time Jolie re-entered the living room with the glasses, Adam was quickly moving away from the table.  The pile of poems seemed a little more disorderly than she had left it.  The one on top skewed a little off center as if it had just been replaced quickly.  Had he been reading it? 

From the slight twinkle in his eye as he looked at her now, she felt surely that he had.  Which one?  She had no idea.  She had picked inoffensive, innocent ones -- she thought, but looking at that twinkle, she somehow knew suddenly she had made a mistake.

It was after all just pieces of paper, of which she had hundreds.  And out of the hundreds of poems she had, she had perhaps a dozen innocent pieces.  The rest were material she wasn't sure was fit for a man -- almost a stranger to examine, even a nice, normal seeming one like Adam.  Maybe especially a normal seeming one like him.  She thought she had picked three of that dozen, but her spine tingled with fear that she was wrong. 

She needed to see as quickly as possible what poem was lying on top, without making it too obvious she was afraid.  She didn't want this normal, sweet man to think she had anything to hide, even if she did.  Which she did.  Things a normal man looking for a normal relationship would never understand.  Surely she hadn't betrayed herself by doing something as stupid as leaving a wrong piece of paper like some dark calling card on a coffee table on what, given her attire and the champagne, was clearly something of a first date even if neither would admit it. 

She walked to the table with the glasses and set them down and quickly scanned the poem on top.  What she saw made her shake.  It wasn't an innocent one at all.  It was just as she feared.  It was a poem about the beginning of the end of her innocence.  Before she decided that being a good girl, at least in the conventional sense, was not something that was very important to her anymore.  A poem she wrote before she met Merrick Gray and her whole life changed.  It wasn't the worst poem she could have errantly picked to leave out in this man's view, but it was certainly tantalizing him with the possibility that she was deeper and more complex than he knew.  Something she hadn't really intended -- at least consciously. 

What could she do but try to to hide the poem later and avoid the subject, maybe avoid poetry altogether.  She tried so hard to make her voice sound normal.

"Would you pour us some champagne?"  She hoped this time her attempt to contain her inner turmoil and conflicts was more successful than her attempt with the poetry.  She did not look him in the eye.

[Kaspider]

Adam saw her trotting over to the couch and looking around. At once, he guessed that she had noticed him or seen him reading her pages. He showed no sign of that on his face as he put the glasses down after first drinks. He was now focusing on setting the colour pencils near the canvas.

But Jolie turned to face him after she had gone to stood near the couch with her back to him. Now she was facing him and there was something in her eyes. Adam could not pinpoint the exact emotion? Loneliness or perhaps something else? It was something sad for sure and right now he didn't want that in her eyes. That was not what he was expecting to draw. He wanted to draw a happy Jolie.

Her voice further confirmed it as she asked for more champagne. Her voice, even though she tried her best to smoothen it, was cracked and conflicted. She wanted drink. So Adam poured her glass full and handed it to her.

“Jolie, you don't have to be nervous. I want you to relax,” Adam said giving her the impression that he thought she was just nervous. “All you have to do is sit there in a pose. You don't even have to read the poetry. Just hold a paper in your hand and relax. I'm gonna draw an outline then you can move about. Now do you wanna get ready while I get my stuff ready?”

Adam explained her how he wanted her on the couch. He wanted her legs up, elbow touching the couch arm, a paper in the hand and the other hand could be free doing anything else. He left her there to get his stuff ready.

[Temple Drake]

As Adam poured the champagne, his speech to her was already soothing.  He had a quiet voice but there was a soft dominance about it that was familiar and comforting to Jolie.  His words weren't harsh -- telling her to relax.  Explaining how to hold the paper and that she didn't have to read.  They were quiet directions, but they were orders.  And before she even held a glass of the soothing alcohol in her hands, she was already relaxed and comforted by the familiarity of an order. 

Jolie took a sip of her champagne and swallowed it quickly.  The bubbles tickled at her brain coupling with his words.  Relax, she thought.  He wants me to relax, and so I will.  She took one more quick sip from the glass set it down and retrieved the papers as he had asked.

She felt relieved that he didn't want her to read, holding the errant poem in her hand.  She quickly shuffled it to the bottom of the stack and assumed the pose that Adam wanted her to take.  She closed her eyes for a second and breathed deeply.  She had a flash of a moment with Merrick, one of their first times together when she was still learning about herself, being taught and pulled to places she never thought she would ever go.  She'd been so scared sometimes and he'd spoken to her just like this soft in her ear, easing her doubt of herself, "Relax." 

Adam speaking to her like this felt like a sign, like salvation, like hope.  Obviously, he had different sort of plans, but he had control.  And that was comforting to Jolie.  There were times in her loneliness that she wondered if she'd ever feel comfortable like this with a man again.  She breathed and assumed the position that he asked of her.  She thought only of his voice. She gave him control of her body, and she felt comfortable.  Her soul was free.

[Kaspider]

Adam had arranged all the pencils near the canvas as he arranged the paper on it. The crimson velvet couch and Jolie sitting on it wearing black was the main focus of the drawing. Then her emotions. He needed to capture them correctly. He was watching her, taking her in his eyes, drinking her as much as he could. She was relaxed, holding the paper,  looking at it. Always she looked down and away from him. As a photographer, Adam was used to women looking away from the camera as the pose demanded most of the time. He never paid much attention to that. Not that he had any great amount of experience in photography.

"That's perfect," Adam said. "Look at the piece of paper and concentrate. That's the look I want." The windows at the back were adding a lot to the atmosphere as well as her look of focus. Adam started his drawing and took about half an hour to draw an outline then another half an hour to capture it all including her emotions and focus. He told her to be at ease or take a break after one hour of posing. He refilled her glass of champagne near her and smiled at her. "I'm sorry if this is not what you do normally. I'm sure you will appreciate the drawing once it comes out."

He took a sip of his own drink as he went back to work. Jolie wasn't allowed to the front to see the drawing until it was finished. He told her that he didn't need her to remain in one position anymore. Now and then, he would ask her to be in the position for a minute. He was conversing with Jolie all along as he drew.

"So tell me more about yourself. You have any family around here?" Adam asked, trying to keep the conversation going. They talked a lot about the job, her poetry, his photography but he dared not ask her about the piece of poetry he had read earlier. Instead, he went for a lighter topic asking about her family.

[Temple Drake]

Jolie tried to control her nervousness as she posed for Adam but was sure it all showed.  Every time she looked at the papers in her hand, she shivered at the thought of this nice man with the kind, intelligent eyes studying her knowing her dark secrets.  She felt such shame that her cheeks flushed and she felt their heat.  She was sure Adam noticed too, but he did not show any outward signs.  She felt it was one more sign of his benevolent nature, a nature that set him apart from her -- that doomed this bud of a relationship from its inception.  All these dark thoughts and worries of her heart, she knew showed on her face, even as she tried to be placid and opaque.  She just had one of those faces where everything internal showed through.

It was awkwardly quiet and tedious holding the poses, all the emotion that wanted to surge out of her.  Just when she thought she might explode or cry, Adam asked about her family.  Jolie took a deep breath.  He was making conversation.  It was what people did.  Ask about one's family.  Mundane information for most people.  It was the worst topic in the world for her, one more thing about her that she was sure Adam would not understand.  He looked so normal.  She was sure he was very close with his parents and their pride and joy.  They played board games together probably and had nice dinners together. 

Jolie chewed on her lip, trying to find the right words to parse her situation so that this normal man might understand.  She just couldn't.  She couldn't make her say these things so soon, such intimate horrible truths to a man she hadn't even kissed.  She blinked back a tear and tried to speak in as calm a voice as she could muster, to avoid any further commentary on the subject she hoped. 

"I -- I don't really have any family.  I'm on my own.  I've been on my own for some time."

She took in a deep breath and to make a further attempt at deflecting and changing the subject, she quickly asked in an uneven voice:  "How about you?  Do you have a family?"

[Kaspider]

Adam saw the flicker of emotions across her face. Those emotions were not the ones he was expecting when he asked about her family. Even though she was trying to hide her face, he could see it all. Reading faces was part of his job as a photographer. He had been doing this one thing ardently through his short career. He simply liked faces and always saw the beauty in them.

And right now, Jolie had mixed emotions on her face. Oops, he must have asked a wrong question. After her short reply, she turned the question on him. He was kind of glad about that. He smiled. "Yes, I have family in New York but I moved to Florida with my girlfriend two years ago. She was a newbie starting in modeling and me in photography. After our split up last year, I decided to open a small business with a partner. It didn't go well and now I'm here. I haven't been to my family in a year but they know what I'm doing. Well, they don't know about my current job but they know I'm in some big photography office taking million dollar photos. Hah." He chuckled, trying to lighten the nervousness in the air.

Adam was almost done with the outline. He happily announced that she didn't have to pose again. "You can put the piece of paper away, have your glass of champagne and put your feet up."

He was careful about his words. He let Jolie speak most of the time about her poetry. It seemed she was comfortable talking about her job and stuff at the publishing house. They both finished the bottle of champagne in the next three hours. Jolie's skirt had skidded up to her thighs, baring them as she sat casually on the couch, looking at the champagne glass. Adam liked this pose of her.

After four hours of work, he was almost finished. And they had nothing really to talk about too. "So why don't you read me one of your poems? It would be a lovely inspiration for me to give the final touches to this beautiful drawing."

[Temple Drake]

The champagne was relaxing to Jolie.  Adam's voice was relaxing.  He'd taken her hint and talked about his family and previous relationship which piqued her curiosity greatly.  She wondered about that girlfriend, a model.  Jolie felt a little tickle of insecurity flit across her brain.  This whole night was like a game of collecting information and withholding, seeking and hiding.  Now, she knew that this artist liked beautiful women.  Would he still think she was beautiful when he knew about her dark secrets?  She took a sip of champagne to try to drown out that doubt and looked into those kind eyes with an alcohol-enhanced hope.

The way he spoke to her after he announced he was finished gave her hope too.  It was all orders, directives.  Yes, they were quiet and not harsh.  Merrick had been quiet, too, at times at least in volume.  The most dastardly deeds and diction he voiced in whispers.  Something about this moment, Adam's eyes looking up her skirt where it had fallen to the side as she relaxed and the quiet orders, it spoke to her.  It breathed a little oxygen into that small flame of hope that resided in her chest, and it flickered inside her.  She closed her eyes and relaxed.  Then he asked her to read a poem, and that flicker wavered a bit.  She feared it would turn to smoke.

She couldn't disobey him though, not in the state she was in.  Her hands shook as she sat up and looked through the papers to find a poem that she could read.  Certainly not Good Girl Gone, her mistake.  She decided that she would go with the poem about a favorite film of hers, Hitchock's Vertigo.  Her voice was shaking but she sat up and read it to him, happy to have to focus her gaze on the paper and not look at him while she read:

Souvenir

A dizzy dream, in day, you drown, always
remembered falling down. She’s platinum,
his proxy, dimpled chin.  With whirling daze
a plot begins. Spy her saunter, satin
her sway; employed to supervise her days.
A suicide you fish from freezing sea,
a bouquet grasped in gallery.  You chase
upstairs but cannot catch.  Guilty
display around a neck of golden chain
with rubies square, a souvenir she should
not wear.  So sentimental with your pain,
a face replaced, embraced inside redwoods.
Their trunks with rings resplendent as her lie.
Your souvenir, two times, you watch her die.

As Jolie finished reading, she shyly looked at Adam.  Even this poem that was not remotely about her life felt naked and personal now.  It was one of her favorite movies and it was about a femme fatale, a woman who destroys a man with his desire for her.  It felt eerie right now, like a premonition to look into the face of this guileless man having read what was almost like a warning.
                                               

[Kaspider]

The poem she recited was complex in all its glory. Her voice was soothing and relaxed, a little slurred because of all the champagne inside her. Adam himself felt a bit tipsy but his fingers worked accurately on the drawing board. He was excited to finish and show this piece of art.

Jolie kept reading the poem sitting there with her bare thighs exposed. There was a bit of a silence after the poem finished. An eerie silence. Adam took this silence to his advantage and finished the drawing.

"OK, here it is," he said cheerfully turning the board around to reveal the drawing. Three things were prominent in the drawing at once. The windows at the back, then the crimson couch and finally Jolie in her black dress. The edges were faded and sharpened at the same time giving the whole drawing as if a photographer was shooting through his lens. The back window panels were blurred, dark with black raindrops. Only the couch and Jolie were focused. She was reading a piece of paper, laid down on the couch with her back rested on the arm rest.

Adam let Jolie take the drawing in then he walked to her and sat next to her. He was dangerously close to her, thigh to thigh. "Well, what do you think?"

[Temple Drake]

Jolie looked at the picture of herself, relaxed and confident with the paper.  She felt like she was seeing herself in a new way.  She could feel the admiration that Adam had of her prevalent in the soft details of the drawing.  He was so close to her that she could feel his warmth pressing against her, thigh to thigh.  His legs were strong, and she felt his energy almost seeping into her as they sat together looking at this gift he had drawn.

More than a gift, it was a message.  This strong man had a unique vision of her that he was asserting in this picture, that he clearly wanted her to accept. She had such fractured complicated feelings inside that sometimes made her feel these days chaotic and confused, not "simple" as Merrick Gray made her feel.  In this picture, she looked simple, a woman but childlike and open and confident in who she was, relaxed.  It felt like such a beautiful message this picture:  this is who I see.  You can be this person again. 

She turned to Adam, her eyes brimming with emotion that she was trying to hold back. She knew she was failing.  This man saw her in totality.  She spoke quickly in a timid little voice.

"I just -- I don't know what to say.  You've completely captured me."  A blush flew over her cheeks after she spoke the words.  She looked at the floor afraid to see the reaction of this strange and extraordinary man who had come into a dead, hollow life and offered the hope of a resurrection.

[Kaspider]

Adam was staring ahead at the piece of art he created during the last three hours. It was such an effort from his side and it came out better than he expected. Jolie was looking ahead too. He didn't look at her or demand a reaction straight away. He let her see the picture. He let her drink it.

Eventually she turned to look at him. She didn't just look. She turned herself to face him. Her face was overflowing with emotions, Adam could tell. A slight blush streaked her beautiful face after she complimented. That was enough for him. Jolie saying those words had made his day. It was strange how these feeling were coming out of him. He had only met this girl and now she was sitting right in front of her and they already spent five hours and downed a champagne bottle too. The thought made him smile.

"Sshhh," he said softly. "That...is not even half of it." He leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on the side of her cheek. He inhaled her aroma, her perfume as he did that then withdrew and kept the soft tone. "You keep the drawing. You look at it, find inspiration from it. You write with it. It's yours."

They spent some more time together, happy time, smiling and chatting. Adam wished there was more drink but he had to go back to the hotel and he needed to stay somewhat sober. He gave her a smile before leaving. "It was nice to be in your company, Jolie. I had such a great fun. I'll see you at work on Monday. You were such good fun."

He leaned over to softly kiss on her lips then left. She was on his mind on his return journey. He slept soundly that night.

The End. The story continues elsewhere on the forum in another section