tɛmˈpɛstjʊəs// filled with strong and turbulent emotions

       “Oh - bonjour,” she said with a slight jump of surprise, pulling her nose from the book on Monet she had just been reviewing in her spare time, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” she closed the book with a soft SNAP; “serves me right for walking whilst reading, don’t you think?”   Her dark eyes scanned around as well, a soft smile playing on her lips; “oh yes, it’s gorgeous isn’t it?  They’re really quite elegant aren’t they?   You’ll get used to it - I promise you that, even though you may get lost a few times.”   Tucking an unruly curl behind her ear, she nodded and smile; “oui, it’s quite nice actually - and there’s a study area as well with comfy arm chairs - forgive me, I’m Tempest Jones, it’s lovely to meet you.”

         “Yes, of course, cheri,” she said with a smile to the new woman in the house, “has it been a long travel for you?” Tempest asked as she waved the woman to down the hallway to the large kitchen; “and that’s awful, I was chauffeured to the house - I can’t imagine why they didn’t come to collect you. Never the less, WELCOME to the house, I’m Tempest Jones. It’s a pleasure.”

      “I honestly shouldn’t paint whilst on a coffee high and drinking red wine,” she covered her face with her paint stained hands with a half laugh and half sigh; “I don’t really know what I expected it to look like.   I think I was just venting on canvas.”

@tempestucus: new cities then, mon amour. or, perhaps an island get away with a view of the sea and tucked away in our private corner of the world?

        ‘All art is good art,’ her mother would die if she ever heard those words come from someones lips - but to Tempest, it was amazing to hear.   “I like the way you think - it’s REFRESHING to hear.   I’m Tempest, by the way, I don’t think we’ve actually met properly.”

@tempestucus: and shall i paint you like one of my french girls? i'll take you to paris with me and we can wake up in the heart of the most romantic city in the world if you like

@tempestucus: a whole life full of lazy sundays and coffee and tea and lounging half-naked in warm sheets with a good book or your lover. less chaos, oui

@tempestucus: it's the dream isn't it @mayarhale 😩👩‍❤️‍👩 why is it so difficult to just jump forward to that part of life

       She let out a small sigh, conceding defeat at the hand of the other womans logic; “you’re always welcome to come and have a look at my other works, really,” her soft lips curved into a smile.   She almost let out a whine of protest when Angharad pulled the brush from her fingers, but again - conceded defeat - she felt the pink spread to her cheeks as she straightened, standing, and smiled again; “I’d love that actually, shall we go out or go to the kitchen?”

         “Your family should have visited my mothers gallery in france,” tempest said with a smile; “they would have positively LOVED her collection then.” this was the kind of art that her mother collected but detested when it came from her only child; “I study art - or I did before I came here. I have more paintings in my room, ad some up on my gallery page. If you’d like I could always show you,” she smiled at the brunette, touched by the compliments to her work.

       “I just - I don’t think it’s my best. I think I’ve just overdone it or something-” tempest sighed, “I honestly cannot PLACE it, but it feels as though somethings OFF,” she looked at the woman beside her; outrageous hair mirroring her own - though the others was DISTINCTLY void of spatters of paint ( unlike tempest’s own )   -   “I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it sometimes.”