Coloured emotions

I stepped into the house, hoping to see paint containers littered on the floor, but this room looks brighter than the dark rooms of artists pictured in movies.
And over there was a standing canvas covered with a black material, a painting of Napoleon hung on the left side of the bed looking carefully hung. By the right corner of the room was another canvas covered with a blue sheet, of all the paintings in the room the one covered with a blue sheet got my attention probably because blue is my favourite Colour. He ushered me in, with the perfect Mr. Gentle courtesy, a bit suspicious owing to the fact that this was someone I troubled outside, he should be doing this because its my first time here I thought.

'Please feel at home' his soft voice came sending shivers to my skin. There were no erotic painting as I suspected except for the body painting of a blonde that sits perfectly well on the table next to some sets of brushes, who could she be? I had thought, probably an ex, a girlfriend or just a model client.

He handed me a paint pallette and a tiny little brush set of 5. Can you paint with me? He asked
 his voice more spicy than the ghana pepper I enjoy every noodle with. I removed my glasses (how much i hated the nerdy look i carry) and took off my coat as his look caressed every hair on my skin making me think I was naked.

Not even a drink? I asked smiling, 'well we will feed on painting'
his voice came with a grin half lipped.

Why the tension, this is my friend calm down I said beneath my breath.
What are we painting? I asked.
He remained numb and opened the canvass that got my attention when I first entered, the one covered with the blue sheet. And it was empty, as though giving me the opportunity to write my story from the start, the masculine figure standing over me made me think I was meeting him for the first time.

He started off as I followed not sure what to do. Minutes of long silence passed, the only form of communication was our eyes.

 I was trying to finish the hair not knowing what we were painting but it sure is a Lady. He drifted his brush from the canvas to my bare neck in a rhythmic silence. I have never been this tense yet comfortable ever, he made a few painting on my neck to my lips as he did so with so much cautiousness as though the brush will cut through my skin. Close your eyes he whispered to my ear as the music app on his phone began to play, a song familiar enough but not one I could sing.

Keep your eyes closed (my curious self seem to have flee as I patiently closed my eyes)

He came over after what felt like a short decade with his hands around my waist, commanded me to open my eyes something more like a request... And there a painting of my face though more prettier attached to the white board I fell in love with when I first entered

Its all yours mi amor... He whispered


(His soft breath, gently on my neck)..
Me: And my skin will shiver to the questions of uncertainties
Shocked in pleasant fulfilment, seeing the reflection of me on your canvas and feeling the fingers that painted the perfect picture of me running through my skin
Him: Your eyes closed as your heart races time and your little voices of moaning feel a sweat down your spine.
Me: Wishing all these were true, a reality of mine having to live in this moment for so long
Him:This is true.
My hand goes down your abdomen and your flesh is swollen with pride already...
The bed is but a few inches away.
Me: Fill me with the serenity of your soul, let me let out those sound moaning filled in the peace of your fingers
Him: The bed will make a difference in our lives if we ever get into its open arm
We could get lost in each other.
Speechless was I as our hearts communicated in solace.

But once again, blue is our favourite colour, so here we are still staring at the painting covered in blue.

This painting stirred us back in the face spitting blue fire.....


Written by:Delia
Assisted by :supreme Gilbert.