Your Go to for Fab FX

Jackson blinked for a moment as Anya stared and grinned, until the words tumbled from her lips and he found himself wearing a matching grin. He set the painting carefully aside and caught her embrace. It felt like a revelation. It was the first time ever, in his whole life that he saw someone he knew react well to his art. Before this, he only had his father’s looks and scorn. 

He buried his head into her neck, unable to resist swinging her around with him. She liked it and that’s all that mattered. “You really like it?”

“It’s yours you know.” Jackson continued as he pulled away, hands still running up and down her arms. After all, he painted it for her sake more than his own. Though it felt nice to do an up close portrait of someone, and he wondered if this might be the start of a series. There was something about Anya that had him inspired.

“I painted it for you.”

Even if Anya didn’t completely understand the significance of the moment to Jackson, she understood that it was important to him. She knew, if only through what Jackson told her, how his father had treated him. She knew how afraid he was to pursue painting and consider himself a real artist, so she’d be as encouraging as possible while still being as completely honest as possible. Either way, she had no criticisms or complaints about the work, so there was no reason to share anything but excitement over it’s completion.

Anya laughed as he swung her around, and nodded. “Of course I like it. Would I ever lie to you?” Her grin faded to a soft smile as she watched him and took in that elated expression on his face. “You didn’t need to do that, but just know, if it’s mine, it’s going up in my apartment for everyone to see.” Her hands, still around his shoulders made their way to the nape of his neck to play absentmindedly as she spoke. “And do you know what I’m going to tell them when they ask me about it?”

“Especially our mom.” Jackson added, eyes glimmering with humour before he started painting. In that moment, he couldn’t even see Anya’s gaze on him. He wasn’t even thinking of that, he was considering the image of her in his mind, all the colours he associated with her. He could see the flashes of red and black, but as he thought and focused deeper, he could picture the way blue flashed in her dark locks when in a certain light, he could remember the pale pinks in her cheek and the softness of her lips. 

It wasn’t a short process, it took hours, and every now and then, Jackson would leave for some water or paints, giving Anya a soft kiss before continuing. He was like a machine, and there was no hesitation in his strokes. It was the mark of a true artist, forever sure of their final image. Once it was done, a good four hours later, he lifted the canvas and walked over to his girlfriend with a shy smile. It was the first time he’d done a portrait of someone that would actually see it. “You ready to see the first in-person painting by the one, the only, Jackson Rockwell?”

He flipped the canvas over, setting it on the floor so she could have a good luck, his gaze was pensive as he tried to see her reaction to it. He was actually quite proud of it, something about it just felt right.

“What do you think?”

The painting: Reference

As Jackson became consumed by his work once again, Anya sat there like a good model, keeping herself entertained. It wasn’t hard. Watching him was still fascinating, and he’d given her permission to shift and move about instead of staying still like a statue when he’d started. Perhaps many people might have gotten restless or bored if they’d been in the same position, but not Anya. If anything it was interesting being on the other side of this.

Typically when she worked on people, she was the one asking them to sit still for long periods of time. She’d never been the model or the source of inspiration. Before she knew it, hours had passed and Jackson was done, walking over to her with a nervous smile. “I’m so ready, it’s ridiculous how ready I am,” she shot him a smile accompanied by her usual energy level to help him feel more comfortable about the whole thing.

When he flipped the painting, Anya’s eyes were met with a barrage of reds and blues and blacks and yellows coming together to make her face. She’d always been fascinated by the way he used seemingly unfinished, unblended strokes to create a finished picture. She grinned as she looked at it, almost wanting to reach out and touch it, but she knew better. The paint was probably still wet.

“It’s beautiful, Sunshine.” She’d studied Apollo’s paintings closely when she’d had the chance to see them in a gallery, but this was the first time she’d gotten to since discovering he and Jackson were one and the same. It gave her a whole new appreciation. “It really is something special.”

“I can’t just steal your family, they have a say you know.” Jackson chuckled, turning his head to kiss her palm as he head raised. He was nervous in truth, with how they would take him. But atleast it’d be something. Even though the thought of being ‘part of the family’ seemed oddly intimate when they were only starting out again. He suppose they still had years of history before that.

Her return remark was all he needed, Jackson lent forward and kissed her softly again. He knew that she didn’t like saying the words, but it set his heart aflutter when she did. There was no other words for the way his heart raced, or the fact his eyes found such beauty just looking at her. That inner beauty that just shone out when you were close to her. “Feel free to tell them.”

“Let me finish painting the most awesome girlfriend hm?” He got up, walking back to his canvas, that thudding warmth in his chest inspiring that artistic energy in him. Jackson settled back into a trace, each spread of his knife across the canvas, a fluid movement filled with all the love he had in him.

“I mean how much of a say do they really get? I don’t think I had even met Dani’s fiancé by the time he was part of the family.” Although to be fair, she’d been doing her whole avoidance thing, and at the time, it had just seemed like another thing Dani was better at than her: Finding love and actually keeping it. Not running away from it. At the surface, things seemed to be going fast between them between the I love you’s and meeting the family, but if Anya hadn’t been such an idiot, this might be their seventh year together. They could have been married for years by now. It was a thought she didn’t quite know what to do with.

She smiled when she saw that grin on his face again and knew she’d said the right thing. “Probably better to give them the warning than to just drop in with you unannounced. We wouldn’t want anyone having a heart attack out of shock.”

“Maybe I need one.” Jackson whispered softly, hanging his head for a moment. He had Anya now and it filled the hole, but sometimes he remembered why there was a gap in the first place. His mind could still remember the rolling clips of his first painting in the burn barrel. The press of his father’s palm as he shoved his son’s head down and forced him to watch.

I don’t need a sissy in my family, today you become a man.

He let out a breath, but it caught the moment Anya kept talking. His gaze flickered up to hers, and he let out a small but happy laugh in surprise. He leaned closer, just letting the happiness spread over that morose thinking. Jackson let the one thought in his mind pass through his lips.

“I love you.”

“I know it’s not much, but consider my family yours if you want.” Anya brought her hands up to cradle his face and try to raise his hanging head. She couldn’t completely include him into the family all on her own, but she was sure her dad would happily take Jackson in. Dani would be thrilled to have him as an honorary member, the only issue might be her mother, but she’d be outvoted by that point..

As soon as his eyes caught hers, she smiled at him. “I’ll let them know you’re coming now if you-” The thought died on her tongue at Jackson’s suddenly much happier laugh. At least she’d managed to say something right. She’d never been the best at this family stuff.

“I don’t think there’s many people I won’t like, but I’m sure I’m gonna love her.” Jackson smiled warmly, his hand just playing strands her of her absently. Part of him was nervous, but he was mostly serene about the whole idea. Of course he wanted to make a good impression, but he was simply going to be himself, there wasn’t much else he could do. The most important part would that that he could be there for Anya, and that’s all he truly wanted.

He blinked as she took his hand, blue eyes focusing and turning to meet her gaze. He chuckled softly at her question and gave a small shrug. “I’m just happy for you, you know in LA you were so far away from them and, I know your mom is still a pain, but atleast you can still see them.”

“I don’t think I’ll be inviting you to a family dinner in a long time.”

“I don’t think there’s many people that won’t like you.” It was said to make Jackson feel better, but Anya honestly believed it. He was probably one of the most likable people she knew, and any reason her mother might dislike him probably had more to do with Anya and meeting him through Anya than Jackson himself. In truth, she was a bit nervous about how her family would take to him, but at the end of the day, it was her opinion on him that mattered the most. What they thought was negligible.

She watched him for a moment, not completely trusting his words. She was sure he was happy for her, even if she didn’t completely know how she felt about this dinner, but she didn’t think that was all that was on his mind. And then finally the root of the problem came out. “I don’t need a family dinner.” Though she was sure that wasn’t the issue so much as the lack of a real family to have dinner with.

“Hey if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s to never take your for granted.” Jackson murmured thickly, leaning down to kiss her deeply, fingers curling into her hair. He had been holding himself back a little, but with her teasing he just need a little juice to keep himself going.

As he pulled away, he relaxed and sipped his beer as she explained the family dynamics. There was a little sadness in his eyes. It must be nice, Jackson knew Anya had a bad relationship with her mum, but it was clear she loved her father and sister, and it was more than he could say. His sister was a mini-version of his father, and his father saw his son as a tool - a useless one at that. There was never good family, or even a meals together. Just curt words and cold looks. “Yeah I remember talking to him, nice guy.”

“What about your sister?”

Anya pressed back, her fingers sliding up to comb through his hair. She hadn’t been expecting the kiss, but her body was more than happy to react favorably to it. “I could say the same of you.” She never wanted there to be a wasted moment with him, and she knew that any time they were together, she’d always be as present as possible. Becoming one of those couples who went through life on autopilot was the worst case scenario.

It was exactly that presence that told her there was something wrong with Jackson as soon as they started discussing her family. “Dani? She’s like the Junior Varsity version of my mom. She can be kinda passive aggressive and a big perfectionist. Well, she’s kind of actually perfect at everything in mom’s eyes, but…she’s a good person.” Anya admitted slowly, keeping part of her attention on Jackson’s emotional state while still answering the question. “She’ll like you, and I’m sure you’ll like her. And her fiancé Luke will probably be there too, but I don’t have as much dirt on him…” She knew he worked promotions in the music business and that her mom loved him, but that wasn’t something she was going to spring on Jackson now. He was probably nervous enough as it was.

“Does that mean when painting is finished I’ve got a chance?” Jackson bit his lip and wiggled his brow comically, relaxing as she played with his hair. Moments like this you could forget that you were a serious psychiatrist with important responsibilities and just be yourself. As weird and silly as that could be. Her mention of shirtless vs in tux, had him turn a little red with a small shrug. “I’ve only just got into the painting.”

Jackson didn’t even need to answer the suggestion, just humming in agreement. You end up on a wavelength and it was hard to come off it unless you were doing it on purpose. Though he had to admit, he wished there was a little bit of mysterious. If only because he didn’t always want to burden Anya if he felt down. “I have to admit, it was pretty fun to mess with her too.”

The hug actually took him by surprise, but he caught her easily, easing into her embrace. Jackson knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but things never were with Anya. Love made you do crazy things, that was for sure. He pulled away at her question, and thought about it a moment before raising his arm in the air. “Let’s go!”

“Give me all the Liu dirt. I can paint in a bit.”

“You say that as if you may never get another chance again,” Anya laughed at his expressions. “I mean it’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything right? Why would that come with sex or kissing, ugh.” She stuck out her tongue and made a face like the very idea was disgusting before erupting into more giggles. It was strange, but Anya took a little pride in being able to make Jackson blush, and without saying anything scandalous either. It was just further proof of the openness between them that he wasn’t fighting back any feelings at all.

“Well, you’ve met the Momager, so you have a good idea of what she’s like. Meeting her officially is probably going to be worse than it would have been otherwise considering everything, but I think you should have Dad in your corner. I mean he liked you five years ago.” She didn’t exactly keep her family up to date on her dating life, but the fact that they’d even met over Skype was something. Granted, she didn’t know what his opinion of Jackson being her now ex-ex-boyfriend would be. It wasn’t exactly a situation she’d had to deal with before.

“You’re the one who says you’re getting soft, I though to immortalize it for you?” Jackson smiled into the kiss, cheekily deepening it just a fraction to tease her. Even though she was cleaning up, he looked like a freshly washed puppy once she was done, grinning like she’d given him a treat. In truth he liked when she took care of him, even in the small ways. It was the type of intimacy he didn’t have most of his life. “You know once, I painted shirtless…took weeks to get the stuff out of my chest hair.”

“I can feel it, you know you always tense a fraction when you frown, and I guess I’ve got good instinct.” Jackson bent his head down, just say he could give her a cheeky look and tease her a little more. It was amazing how quickly you could get comfortable with someone you’ve been with before. It was like wearing an old glove again, it still fit just as well as before. “Ha, I see how it is, fine, we’re going down together.”

Jackson rubbed his brows for a moment as she asked him, he’d heard the stories of course. Anya had mentioned them now and in the past, and after seeing Mama Liu in the flesh, he knew that they weren’t understated. But he only had to look into her eyes to know that of course he would do it for her. His voice rasped softly, earnest and true. “Yes, I’m sure. After all, I’ll have awesome company so it can’t be that bad.”

Anya groaned playfully as soon as she felt Jackson teasing her with the kiss. “Don’t you tempt me, Sunshine, I swear to god. You still have a painting to finish.” At the bright grin on his face, she ruffled his hair and shook her head at him. “Hmm full tux or shirtless. I’m not sure which I’d prefer actually. I guess at least the tux is less distracting.” She straightened the black bowtie and smoothed the fabric. “And surprisingly still fairly clean so far.”

“I feel like I could frown in the other room and you’d still know something was wrong with me even without you being able to feel me tense up.” One of the perks of being with someone you knew so well was that you could read them like a book. You already knew their tells when something was wrong, and more often than not, you already knew how to approach them about whatever was bothering them. It helped a lot when it came to trying to relearn how to communicate with each other. “Hey, this is your own doing. You just had to be clever,” she teased him lightly. “For all the trouble it’ll give us now, I do have to admit, it was fun in the moment. The look on my mom’s face when you called me Lexi was priceless.”

“Huh? I do?” Jackson blinked, reaching up and feeling the wet paint on his cheek, he laughed, the sort of boisterous and genuine fall of laughter that he was well known for. He never was embarrassed by his own silliness, he revelled in it, living was getting messy and being silly, anything else was boring and he was long tired of that life. He took some tissues from his tissue box, handing them over to Anya. “Clean me up please, Miss softy soft.”

He caught her easily, wrapping his arm around her, his jaw sitting on her scalp gently. His fingers played with hers faintly, the simple action enough to keep him content while he listened patiently. Jackson felt her frown, chuckling and reaching up to pinch her cheek lightly into a smile. “Don’t pull that face, you know it’s true but yes, she’s definitely more…persist about it. If we’re gonna get found out does that mean I either need to become Arthur or we better come clean?” 

Jackson glanced at the text, letting out a small humored air at Anya’s resignation. He tried not to laugh at his own suggestion he was about to air, not quite sure if he was on the verge of making a terrible mistake. “Don’t laugh, and yes I may be nuts, but do you want me to come with you? Make it more bearable…maybe?”

“Miss Softy Soft? That’s a new one.” Her laughter bubbled up as soon as his did. She’d always found Jackson’s laughter contagious. Carefully, she wiped the paint away, focusing closely on her job with the same focus she gave applying makeup. “You were really getting into your painting. There was a second there I thought you might get so close to it, your entire face would come away covered in red paint,” she teased lightly before placing a kiss on his lips and tossing the tissues away. “All done.”

“You can’t even see my face! How do you know I’m pulling one!” She watched as Jackson played with her fingers and felt the deep rumble of the chuckle in his chest. It was moments like this that made her wonder how she’d ever given this up for any amount of time. Being with Jackson was as easy as breathing. “Come clean. Otherwise, I still have to explain why you called me Lexi and you get off scot-free. I go down, you gotta go down.”

At the offer, Anya turned to get a better look at Jackson, studying his expression carefully. “You are most definitely nuts.” The comment was offhanded. A joke that slid out more than a commentary on the idea. “Are you sure you want to do that? You’re not exactly in great standing with my mom right now, and it would be the entire family at once. That’s like…jumping off the high dive before trying the low dive.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Jackson gazed over at his work for a moment before climbing off his high chair and slipping to the open plan kitchen. He reached into his fridge and pulled out two beers, remembering fondly when they first met and he guessed (wrongly) what her favourite beer was. He brought them over, popping the lids with a bottle cap as he settled onto the sofa. His shirt was licked with red and black paint on his cuffs, but most was actually on his face. Small smears where he’d gotten too close to his own canvas. In the moment he never paid attention. He offered her out one of the bottles. “A little beer break might be welcomed anyway.”

“I don’t know, I think I’ve seen you avoid pretty well.” He made sure to smile cheekily enough to know she was poking fun rather than making a barb about the fact he left him. Jackson had left that behind now, they were moving on and it was damn better than when he was clinging to it and remaining alone. 

At the mention of Arthur, Jackson bit his lip, somewhat forgetting that the whole issue was mostly his fault for taking a little joke a bit too far. “I don’t suppose we could just dress me up different and hope she thinks I’m a new person.”

“I well, I think you’re both as hard headed as each other. “

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She looked back up from her phone as he approached her. Now that she was no longer distracted, she was able to notice the streaks of paint that were scattered across his cheeks and nose in the flurry colors. She stifled a little laugh and took the bottle with a thanks. “You’ve got a little something on your face.” Jackson really was like a huge kid sometimes. He could get into a mess and never notice it in all the fun he was having.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve grown soft. You got me back after all, didn’t you?” she joked back, not at all reading anything malicious into the  teasing. She knew them well enough to know that anything either of them had to say about the matter wouldn’t be said hidden behind barbs or false compliments. They knew how to be open with each other. Unlike her mother who only seemed to speak in ‘helpful’ tips and passive aggressive barbs.

With an exaggerated sigh, Anya flopped back into Jackson, leaning her weight on her boyfriend. “I mean, it is within my powers turn you into a completely different person, but that might only make matters worse when we get found out, and knowing her, we will get found out.” Anya made a displeased face when Jackson compared her to her mother. She couldn’t deny that Carrie was probably where she got it from, but she wasn’t happy about it. “At least I don’t use my hardheadedness for evil.” She was being unfair, yes, but the last time she’d seen her mother at the Karaoke bar had brought up too many memories of being pushed too far in her childhood.

Anya’s phone vibrated again, this time lighting up and showing a text message from Dani: Please come. For me?

“Stop it you fiend, and maybe I just need to get use to it.” Jackson’s blue gaze peeked from the side of the canvas and threw Anya a cheeky smile, there was certainly a little stirring in his desires at the sight of the look she gave him, though thankfully painting would keep him distracted from it. He would never quite see what she saw, but then again she probably wouldn’t never know what a light she brought to his life.

Once the canvas as covered in the red paint he’d chosen as the background, Jackson paused, staring at it for a long moment. Then, like a switch had flicked in his mind, he shrugged off his white jacket, letting it fall to the floor as he began to paint properly. When the vision enters his mind, it was like the whole world faded away and all he could see what the image he wanted to paint. It was almost a frenzy in reality, his arm sharply worked the canvas, cutting out the shapes he needed to his will, and at first if you looked, it would seem a mess. But it was all part of the process.

The sound of the ringing broke Jackson out of his trance and he blinked, glancing over at his girlfriend. He blinked at her words, a small frown on her lips. “You don’t want to go? You know she’s not gonna give up, she isn’t the kind of a lady too.”

They only met once, but that was enough for Jackson to have a decent read on her.

Anya could see the trace Jackson went into as he became more focused. It was as thought painting was consuming him and there was nothing else in the world besides him and his paints. It was a magical, intimate thing to watch, a painter and his canvas. And then, just like that, her phone broke the trance and she saw him snap out of it. “Shit. I’m sorry. I should have turned it on silent.” She knew how frustrating it could be when you lost your creative flow in the middle of a piece.

“Not really. Why would I want to go? That would be waaaay too much passive aggression for the one night.” She put her phone away, making sure to turn the phone on vibrate, so if something important were to come up, she’d still be reachable. It wasn’t uncommon for her mother’s excessive dogging to come up, but she still wanted to be sure it wasn’t serious. “I think you underestimate my avoidance skills.”

Sure, at some point she was going to be called out for ignoring the calls, but only if her mother could get a hold of her. “You know she’s still asking me who that Arthur fellow at Karaoke was, weeks later, and I know that no matter what answer I give her, she won’t be satisfied. There’ll just be more questions about the fake names on top of all the other questions.” And that wasn’t even getting started on the judgement.

“Now whose the cheeseball, eyes up here eh?” Jackson pointed up to his eyes with a chuckle, unable to stop himself turning a little red. It felt freeing to be as open about things, but also to listen to Anya return the same. She was his and that was a comfort in itself, there was a surprising wholeness and warmth that came from that simple idea. It made the world stable and durable. 

In all honesty, he didn’t need Anya in front of him. He had so many memories of her face, and his photographic memory meant that he could remember all the lines of her smile and the wrinkles of her eyes with a fairly decent precision. However there was something about having her right there in front of him that made it special. Jackson was letting her into his most intimate moment, painting. He smiled softly when she wanted to see his first painting. “It wasn’t anything good, but my pa burnt it when he found it anyway. It was just pencil sketches and doodles after that.”

“Yeah? Does that mean you like watching me?”

“Oh I would, but there’s just so much of you to look at.” She shot him a wolfish grin which only widened more when she saw the blush on his cheeks. “So you can dish out the compliments, but you’re not so great at taking them, huh?” She’d just have to keep giving them until he was used to hearing good things about himself. Maybe then he’d be able to see how great she thought he was. She wondered what he’d think if he could see himself the way she saw him.

At the news of what Jackson’s father had done to his painting, Anya’s mouth set in a displeased frown. She’d never liked Jackson’s father just based off what she’d heard. She’d never met the man, but she resented the way he’d treated Jackson. “It was still a kid’s painting. He shouldn’t have burnt it.” Her ill will towards the older Rockwell was only lifted by the sight of the younger one in front of her, working away on his passion in a white tux that was most likely going to be stained by the end of today. It was strange how just watching Jackson could lift her spirits. “Of course I like watching you. You’re an artist at work. It’s like a piece in itself.”

Her phone suddenly began ringing again and Anya let out a frustrated groan. It only took one glance at the caller ID for her to send the call to voicemail again. “My mom keeps calling me about family dinner. God knows what’s so special about this one.” Usually Anya skipped out, preferring to spend family time one on one than taking all of them on all at once. Her dad made things easier, but her mother and her sister Dani were a lot to take on all at once.

“I don’t think people will really want to ogle at me.” Jackson replied, with a softer smile. He didn’t think himself as ugly of course, but he wasn’t exactly known as the most handsome guy in highschool, and as such, he found himself to be average or maybe a little above. If he really thought about looks much at all, to an artist like him, ugliness was just as visually interesting as prettiness. Not that he wasn’t happy he had a beautiful girlfriend in Anya.

He chuckled, nodding slowly. He certainly wasn’t one to shy away from brutally honest and often cringy compliments. After all, they came from his heart, as much as they sounded like they were ripped from an erotic novel. “It was an easy pick, and hey Jack Dawson stole half my first name so, really he’s just a cheap imitation. Oh and you love that I’m a smelly cheeseball.”

Watching Jackson paint wasn’t too far off witnessing an Japanese tea ceremony. He moved slowly, simply setting up the palette with colours and straightening as he looked between the canvas and Anya. Normally he would outline his design, so he knew where it was heading before he started, but he wanted to create a fluidity and rawness, so he shape as he went. It was easier with oil painting anyway as you could paint over your mistakes should you wait enough for it to dry.

He readied his palette knife, first simply setting up a dark backdrop. Jackson seemed lost in thought as he worked, his blue eyes bright with focus and his wrist flicking as if this was second nature. Only when she asked questions did he give Anya his full attention. “The first thing? A painted the mouse that use to scuttle under my bed when I was twelve. I used kid’s acrylics the at the neighbour let me borrow, so it was pretty bad.”

Most people may have painted their parents,flowers or an apple, but he was always more interested in life. He only really did still art as study than a genuine attempt. “Start again you mean? I…well.”

“When you left me the first time. It left a hole, and I tried to fill it with other people, with the LA life, but it never worked. So I plugged it with art instead.”

“I don’t know about people, but I know that I’d want to ogle you any day of the week.” Anya knew that Jackson didn’t have a high regard for his looks, not that he had much of a low one either. He was like her in that they saw themselves as completely ordinary. Average in every way. But she knew the truth of how handsome he was, and even if he hadn’t been physically attractive, she’d still  know the truth of the way his personality shone. He’d always be gorgeous in her eyes.

“Well, in the future I’ll be sure to filter my jokes so that you only get the best of the best,” she chuckled and shook her head before letting her gaze linger on the man in front of her. “Oh yeah, I love my cheeseball.” She absolutely loved that he was so goofy and sincere about everything no matter how it might sound coming out. It was one of her favorite things about him.

Even though she was the one on display, Anya didn’t find herself getting bored. She was fascinated watching how he prepared his palette and his canvas. His movements were obviously very practiced. He’d done them many times before. She couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in him as his fingers moved expertly and his eyes stared intensely at the canvas. This was Jackson in his element.

“I wish you still had it so I could see it.” It wasn’t a surprise to hear he’d found an interest in painting as early as 12, it only made it sadder that he’d denied his art for so long. Her brow furrowed slightly at the news that his heartbreak had been partially responsible for rekindling his love. It felt like her poor decisions stained so much of his life that she didn’t know fully how to respond.

“Another life? Maybe I’ll do it in this one, I happen to know a fairly good makeup artist and yeah, I always remember.” Jackson had an eccentric air around him that most didn’t clock onto until it w as too late, and this was by far consistent with that mentality. She’d told him weeks again, and yet today of all days, he decided to show her his tux. Kind of added a humorous air to the whole thing, being painted by a man in a tux.

His hand gently touched her cheek, thumb smoothing over her skin and any tiredness she thought was there. He didn’t see any of it of course, but then again, Jackson didn’t see much difference between this Anya and the one he once knew, physically atleast. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you seem extra beautiful to me.”

Jackson pinched her nose playfully at the joke though he couldn’t hid his own laughter as he pointed to the couch. He had set up a few pillows there and slipped away to perch on his high stool by his canvas. It was a rather large one, but despite what most people thought, sometimes a larger canvas was quicker to work with, you could often smudge the more intricate details. “That was a cheap joke, but yes, I’m gonna paint you, better than he could too.”

“Sit there and feel free to move around, I ain’t painting a statue.”

“You never know. I do have some contacts in the biz. Maybe I could get you a gig,” she teased him with a wink. Walking in to find Jackson in a tux had been a nice surprise, but the gesture in itself was something that was very Jackson. Gestures, no matter how grand or small, were his thing, and every one of them was always sincere. That’s part of what had drawn her to him at the very start. He had always been sincere with her for everything she did.

“Jackson Rockwell, you are a certified cheeseball, you know that?” Anya scrunched up her face when he pinched her nose and moved to splay out on the couch and make herself comfortable. “First of all, that was a fantastic joke, how dare you call it cheap, and second of all, those are fighting words. Careful or the frozen ghost of Jack Dawson very well may come and haunt you.”

“You did m’lady, it was right there with you saying you wanted to see me all dressed up.” Jackson did a little twirl for her as he came closer, it was perhaps silly to most people, but completely fitting with his persona. He couldn’t ever resist surprising the people he cared about. He leaned down to her kiss, turning his head to steal a small chaste from her lips as well.

He shrugged, he had normal tuxes but the white ones were his favorite, the tailor always said it matched his eyes, but in all honesty he just liked being a little different. If he thought he could get away with it, Jackson doubted he was beyond any bizarre colour. 

He tilted his head as Anya looked around, trying not to smirk too much at her question. His gaze was soft as he considered, now much more open about his feelings. “The prettiest girl I know, of course.”

“I said that weeks ago, and you remembered?” She shook her head in amazement before laughing for the twirl and the stolen kiss. “You know, in another life you could have been a model for all the showing off and posing you like to do,” she teased him. When they’d been trying to be friends, Anya had still felt a sense of freedom when she was with Jackson. A freedom to be and act however she wanted, and she’d thought there’d been no reservations, but now that they’d come clean about everything they were feeling, that freedom only felt amplified. It was like finding something she’d been missing.

At his soft words, she turned to look at him, almost wondering if she’d misheard him, but the look he was giving her left no mistake. “I just get in from work and now you decide to paint me when I’m all tired and running off caffeine?” she joked, not for one second actually caring how tired she might look. She’d never been vain enough to care about that sort of thing, and she knew that no matter how gross or tired she felt, Jackson would always believe his words were true.

It was amazing how much energy getting a girlfriend could bring. Jackson felt light on his feet, even at work his receptionist was giving him a raised brow all day from his even more chipper behavior. It was just a byproduct of feeling free again. He was finally feeling like he could breathe and no be worried that it would cause him to get excluded or pushed away, because worse comes to worse, he would have something he always wanted. A person in his corner.

Perhaps his good mood was what drove Jackson to pull out a canvas and palette. It was spur of the moment, but now he had her in his grasp more firmly, he might get a chance to do something he’d never done before. Paint Anya. When they’d met, he’d pushed his art to the backseat, but know she knew he was Apollo, there was nothing stopping him commemorating her on canvas. Plus it seemed romantic in it’s own way.

He was just placing his easel when he heard the door click, chuckling at the fact that Anya had let herself in. Of course she still remembered that he kept his spare key under the mat. Jackson grabbed his suit jacket, throwing it on as he watched her entered the living room. Leave it to him to remember that she had wanted to see him in his fancy best.

So there Jackson soon, big grin on his face as he stood in a white tux. His beard was growing back in, browns and blacks mixed in with a little white. “Welcome to my studio fruitloop!”

The second Anya turned to face him, she stopped in her tracks. A lot of things flew through her mind. The fact that Jackson looked set up to paint, the white tux, and of course the automatic happiness of seeing him. Now that she didn’t have to try to fight off any feelings towards him, she let them overtake her fully.

“Look at you,” she gave a low whistle as she approached him. “Did I miss the memo about fancy dress wear?” She looked him up and down. He’d gone to so much trouble  to look nice, the least she could do was fully appreciate it. “You clean up better than I imagined, and my imagination was pretty favorable.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“You would be a white tux kinda guy, wouldn’t you,” she laughed then turned to look at the set up he’d made in his living room. She peered around the easel to see if he’d started painting anything on the canvas yet. She couldn’t deny that since finding out he was Apollo, she’d been curious by his technique and inspirations. She’d admired his art before she knew it was his, and the prospect of watching the artist at work and specifically Jackson come into his artwork, was exciting.