#ft. gem

Still. Her compliment makes him want to burn it a little less, and he swishes the brush in the jar of water he keeps alongside his easel instead of setting fire to the sixth brush this week. “Is this for next week’s collection?”

“The artist and the muse? No thanks, I’m not willing to commit to you as a muse. The world is simply too big for that.” He’s joking, but Gem still swats the back of his head.

“You wish I’d commit to being your muse. No, not the muse thing, the friendship thing. Pandora’s painting her and her sisters’ friends, I believe. If she does what I’m imagining, it’ll complement this nicely, once it’s done.”

Carson would like very much to keep this piece, actually – it’s pretty decent – but the last seventeen he tried to keep, he burned, so maybe Gem has a point. He sighs. “It’ll be done by Friday,” he promises with a sigh, like it’s a big effort to move from his rented studio to the gallery. Like the studio isn’t a side room attached to the gallery itself. “You can have it then.”

Gem claps a hand on his shoulder, grinning, and leans forward to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. He blushes in spite of himself, and almost doesn’t hear as she says, “You’re the best, Car. I’ll give you your cut once it sells, okay?”