Art and Ikemen

“We can always have another picnic, Abby. But these flowers…” Vincent let out a gentle sigh as he turned his face, his gaze softening as he looked at the field of flowers surrounding them. “These flowers won’t be here much longer. And I would like to paint my favorite flower amongst them,” he whispered, his blue eyes sparkling in the sun as he tilted his head, his eyes meeting Abby’s.

“That is,” he added, “if you will allow me this honor.”

“O-okay…” Abby replied. Filled with a warmth that did not come from the sun’s rays, she slowly uncurled her fingers from the hem of the sundress she was wearing.

“Could you tuck your hair behind your ear?” Vincent asked gently. “I don’t want a breeze to come by and your hair ends up covering your face.”

“Y-yes, of course.” She raised her hand and ran her fingers through her blonde strands, smoothing her hair before carefully tucking it behind her ear. 

“Perfect! Now stay just like that.”

“W-wait!” There was a rustle in the wind and Abby tilted her face; just as she had suspected, the thin shoulder strap of her dress had slipped down the slope of her shoulder. Her gaze was fixed on the flowers on her dress as she recalled the day Vincent purchased it for her. 

They had gone out for lunch and afterwards decided to take a stroll before returning to the mansion. There was a clothing boutique that had recently opened. Vincent loved spoiling Abby, and he especially loved seeing Abby wear more colorful outfits. 

Vincent had promised her if she didn’t like anything there that they could leave quickly. Not surprisingly, Vincent was the one to find the sundress she was wearing today. It was a bit bold in style – the skirt a bit shorter than what she usually wore, the bodice held up with thin straps tied into dainty bows – but when Vincent encouraged her to try it on, she couldn’t say no.

“H-how do I look?” Abby stepped out of the dressing room and twirled for Vincent, the flowers on the skirt twisting like the colors in a kaleidoscope. The way his blue eyes sparkled when she tried it on, Abby knew she had to have this dress.

“Leave it,” Vincent said with a smile, snapping Abby out of her reverie. “I like it.”

“O-oh...” Dropping her hand, the blush on Abby’s cheeks matched the petal pink flowers on her dress as a familiar warmth bloomed in her chest.

Not wanting to move from her pose, Abby stole quick glances of Vincent as he painted. While he was quiet for the most part, it was his expressions that were as colorful as the paints on his palette. His brows would knit together as he mixed colors, his face softening the moment he created the right shade. At times, his gaze would linger on his subject, and Abby would allow her eyes to meet his, a shared soft smile spreading across their lips. And when the rays of sunlight warmed Vincent’s face making his eyes crinkle, it was like staring at the brightest, most beautiful sunflower. 

“Vincent…” Abby shivered as a stronger breeze blew by. Her gaze flicked up towards the sky, only to find ominous grey stormclouds looming in the once clear blue sky. “I hope you’re almost done…”

Vincent paused, his paintbrush held in mid-air as an audible groan escaped his pursed lips. “I need only a few more minutes…” he softly prayed, pressing his paintbrush against the canvas.

Abby held her breath until the first flash of lightning lit up the sky like fireworks. “H-hurry, Vincent, hurry.” 

“Almost done,” Vincent replied, his voice muffled by the deep rumble of thunder in the distance. He laid a few quick brushstrokes against the canvas before lifting the brush. He looked up at the darkened sky once more, just in time to witness another flash of lightning. “This'll have to do.”

He swiftly gathered his art supplies, tucking his brushes and paints back into their picnic basket. Abby stood and helped him with the blanket they had been sitting on.

“W-what if it gets wet and ruined?” Abby asked while watching Vincent place the painting in the center of the blanket, her voice strained with worry.

“It won’t,” Vincent replied, gathering the corners and loosely tying a knot. “The carriage is not far. If I carry it carefully, it should not smear or get ruined.”

“Why won't you let me see your painting?” Abby peered curiously.

“It's a surprise,” Vincent said with a small smile. “The sooner we get home, the sooner you can see it.”