He’s suddenly leading her from the room, and Katelynn finds herself sitting on the bed and Jack sits besides her. Looking up at him, though, she sees the tears. Of course he’s crying as well. Even if his art isn’t as priceless as she is, it is still his art. His soul had gone into so many pieces, everything he did, even for the people who hired him to paint their photographs larger.
The loss was horrible.
“I’m just. G-glad that. That nothing t-too big was lost. That. That’s all. M-my painting of you is… is in your apartment… it’s safe…”
She nodded slowly, her hands on his and rubbing them gently, trying to add any kind of comfort to him, scooting close to him so that their knees touch. “Y-Yeah..that painting is safe..I kept it safe for you..I did..I looked at it every day, appreciating it and loving it because you made it for me and it holds precious memories of when we had just met and were just friends.”
When times had been simpler and she hadn’t hurt him as much as she did. So much had happened so fast since they met that it made her head spin.
She picks up his hands and kisses them gently, rubbing them against her cheeks. His wonderful hands that could create such beauty on canvas. At least he was able bodied still to pick himself up and keep paining. But with such a loss would he want to? What if this scared him further than he already was? Made him shyer?
She didn’t want to think that he would allow himself to become that way. Jack was strong. She was sure of it.
He kisses her forehead softly, shutting his eyes, before he pulls one hand away and wrapped it around her shoulders and the two fell backwards onto the bed. Jack pulls her in close, wrapping his arms around her, as the tears continue. She’s here. That’s what matters to him most now. Not his art, not his hands, nothing. He would let them be smashed if it meant she would be safe, and content.
“I love you.” he whispered quietly. “So much.”
Jack Maple 