ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ.

love her.  ( accepting!! )

       * 14.  last kiss.

it’s sudden.  her husband tells her,  first thing in the morning,  that they’ll be leaving paris tomorrow — he’s finished with the portraits he was commissioned to do,  and of course he has no idea of her reasons to wish to stay.  richard is as old and oblivious as always ; they hardly even talk anymore,  their only connection through the legalities of the bonds of marriage,  nothing more.  the news sends maria into a frantic state,  rushing to write a letter to thomas,  explaining that she’ll be leaving,  that she’ll miss him.  please,  don’t forget to write.  signs it yours ever.  it’s the most forward she’s ever been in print — though maria has no problems showing romance in person,  her confidence in her writing is where she dwindles.

it’s an hour before she can flee to thomas’ house,  across the city,  and knock on his door,  scarf pulled tight around her shoulders.  she greets him with a smile on her face as always,  and if a hint of sadness shows on her face,  neither of them mention it.  she doesn’t tell him of her impending departure.  better to enjoy the last day they have,  with the man who’s loved her far better than her own husband could ever manage.  perhaps,  in another life,  she would divorce richard,  wed thomas instead — but she cannot bring shame to her family’s name with a divorce,  and she knows thomas is still grieving his late wife.  in another life,  though.  perhaps they could have been happy.

they talk for hours and hours,  until the sun lowers outside the window,  painting everything in the last golden tendrils of daylight,  and she must leave.  he doesn’t know it’s their last goodbye,  but the kiss she gives him has a finality to it.  she holds him a little too tightly as she drags him down to her height,  a deep,  lingering kiss pressed against his lips.  breath mingles as she hovers there after they part,  eyes still closed,  unwilling to see the reality that this is likely the last time she’ll see him.  god,  they’ve only shared a few months together,  such a short time to fall so deeply in love.

     she knows it is cowardly to run. yet EVERYTHING in her is burning with both the desire to flee and the desire to fall back in to her embrace without hesitation. she doesn’t know if they can go back to being FRIENDS so quickly, but with maria’s face falling –– with the HURT clear in her eyes ––– angelica can hardly leave her side. decisively, angelica steps forward and sits back down, with all the grace she could muster, given that her world had just spun well OFF ITS AXIS.  

     ❝  i guess ––– i guess until the movie’s over, ❞ she murmurs, carefully leaving space between the two. the SILENCE that follows is dreadful. the absence of maria’s lovely laugh, or her whispering in angelica’s ear ( despite the two being the only ones in the room ) makes her heart heavy, falling rapidly down to the pit of her stomach.

     she cannot rid herself of the feeling that –– if she were to run, to never look back –– she’d wasted a friendship ( a courtship, even ) that was CENTURIES in the making. still, it had been months, and even then angelica knew she would never possess the POWER to walk away. she would not do that to maria. ( her maria, something inside her interjects, and a faint blush rises to her cheeks. )

     in the few months they had known each other, there had never been a moment of silence between them like this. those gaps had been filled with laughter, or a soft humming, or maria’s paint stained fingers INTERLACED with her own. 

     angelica reaches out her hand. 

     ❝  i’m sorry. just –– i’ve never, you know…. KISSED a girl. so i freaked out. it was pathetic, i know i just –– i hadn’t expected THAT to happen.  ❞

maria can’t focus on the movie.  the silence is too loud,  angelica’s presence beside her  ( a carefully measured space between them ; it takes all of maria’s self restraint not to lean into her friend just like before )  nearly deafening.  her thoughts race far beyond what she can comprehend.  at least angelica had stayed,  maria reasons — surely she doesn’t hate maria,  but the awkwardness is unlike anything she’s experienced in their months of friendship.  it feels wrong,  like nails on a chalkboard or the exposed metal of a worn-down eraser rubbing against paper feel wrong — she has to shut her eyes tight for a moment just to get past the feeling.

her eyes stay fixed on her lap instead of on the screen in front of them,  so she notices angelica’s outstretched hand as soon as it’s offered.  she doesn’t take it right away,  though — she’s unsure whether it’s the usual platonic gesture or something more fitting to the kiss they’d just shared,  and the lack of knowledge makes her feel nothing less than vulnerable.  she can’t show even a hint of romantic affection until she’s sure angelica won’t just try to leave again.

there’s a slight laugh at angelica’s words,  not as carefree as maria’s usual airy giggles but not quite forced.  she hasn’t kissed many girls herself,  either — it’s not as if the desire hasn’t been there,  the opportunity has just been lacking — but she doesn’t see why angelica,  who’s normally so strong,  would be freaked out by it.  unless — unless maria has been misinterpreting,  and her friend is straight after all,  it had never been said in any direct terms and —— god,  maria fucked up.  

    she isn’t aware of the anxiety that had SETTLED in the pit of her stomach, until it had suddenly f a d e d away, a gentle, warm RUSH of relief coming in quickly to replace it.

  they’d never gotten around to this before. the thought comes to her in the second it takes for maria to pull back, breath still HOT on angelica’s lips. it PUZZLESher –– this overwhelming feeling that TONIGHT would have been their final opportunity for anything like this to happen between the two of them, when angelica knows with certainty that she’ll see maria in weeks to come.

    her lips   B U R N  for more contact, heart racing with a desperation she hadn’t known to be there before. they’d known each other mere months –– and yet become quick friends. sure, angelica had a BIT of a crush on the girl. ( who wouldn’t ––– on maria, on this divinelight that could brighten the darkest of rooms, and warm the coldest of hearts ? ) and perhaps, just maybe, she’d fantasized about something MORE, once or twice, but angelica never let her feelings get the best of her, not when it meant she might lose control.

    yet, in one quick, sudden motion, on a movie night just like any other, cuddled up with each other, a kiss too loaded NOT to change everything occurs. and angelica hasn’t the slightest notion of what to do.

   her fingertips fly to her own lips, stopping herself from GIVING IN.

   ❝ i’m sorry, i’ve got to go. i’ll –– i’ll see you at tom’s party, yeah? ❞

there’s been an undeniable pull to angelica since they met  —  maria’s certain that angelica feels it too ; how could she not?  in a possibly too idealistic train of thought,  maria’s half-convinced herself that angelica is some kind of soulmate to her.  what else could possibly explain how strongly she feels?  how every time angelica smiles,  maria’s entire world lights up?  the logical side of her brain tells her that she’s being a hopeless romantic again,  that talk of soulmates and love at first sight should be preposterous,  but she’s an artist first and foremost,  and if paintings have no room for logic and science then why should her own mind?

it seems only common sense for them to kiss,  like it’s something clear as day.  she’s wanted this for what feels like centuries though it’s been only months,  and yet maria can feel years’ worth of emotions spilling into the all too brief kiss.  eyes drift shut as she leans into angelica once again,  feeling her breath ghosting across her face,  only to find that angelica has leaned away.

maria’s eyes fly open,  then.  wide-eyed,  mouth hanging slightly open,  blush painting her cheeks — the confusion and hurt are clear on maria’s face as she gazes at angelica.  there’s a clear excuse coming out of the other girl’s mouth,  the i’ve got to go sounding like a blatant lie to maria’s ears,  and the joy that had overcome her as their lips touched is quickly replaced with shame and regret.   

maria hadfield is a painting major @ pratt in nyc, transfers from an italian art school in the second semester of her freshman year

maria is sorta friends with everyone ( the whole ‘goddess of pall mall’ thing definitely translates over ) and goes to like, every single party on campus all the time though she never rly does much there??? she’s not the type who’ll get blackout drunk and dance on tables, she just goes and has a moderate amount of fun and then goes home. mainly to preserve her social standing.

she dates a lot but like, most of them are just fuckbuddies not full on Dating bc she’s kinda a hopeless romantic and wants to find ~true love~ and all that if she’s actually gonna go steady with someone. 

( also, she had an abusive ex bf — coughs in the vague direction of richard cosway — who her parents had urged her to get together with and had not gone well, and is a little hesitant to get romantically super close to anyone. if you’re already fucking, it’ll take her a while to warm up to you in a romantic sense; if you’re good friends before the romance happens it’s a little easier. )

she’s also poly af she has so much love in her heart and she wants everyone she loves to also love each other. also she’s of the opinion that u can never have too many cuddles/kisses so multiple partners is Great

SERIAL CLOTHES STEALER if you’re good friends w/ or dating maria prepare for her to walk around in your shirt and underwear and nothing else all the time. aside from that her fashion is generally high-end cute stuff, lots of high waisted shorts and pastel floral prints. light blue kanken backpack for the true art hoe(TM) aesthetic.

she speaks english fairly well by the time she gets to america but she’s still far more comfy talking to people who can speak italian, and her accent is pretty pronounced. she tries to dull it most of the time — she’s proud of her origins, but she wants to be able to be understood mostly — but when she’s tired or drunk it’ll come out full-force.

it’s not uncommon for her to spend >24hrs in her studio painting without even realizing it. she keeps an emergency pile of candy in there so she doesn’t starve during these times, but she’s unlikely to leave till she finishes the piece unless someone comes and reminds her that she’s being unhealthy.

constant paint stained hands/arms. she’s not a super messy painter but it happens okay

she HATES all her more academic classes with a passion. with the exception of theology bc she’s actually pretty religious ( christian, doesn’t care too much about denomination or actually going to church, more of a private worshipper ) and she’s interested in different mythologies and beliefs. anything else though she’ll complain endlessly about how she’d much rather be painting.

WHAT THE GAY