“Then I’ll definitely need to make it something special!” she cheered, rolling up imaginary sleeves as she set about getting the colors she would need. “And try my best to represent you.” The thought excited her a great deal, giving her new fuel as she set to work making a new rough sketch and trying her best to really make a butterfly as he had before transferring it over onto the actual canvas.
She worked hard, mixing colors of blue, purple, silver and green and even trying to make a trail of sparkles coming off the wings. She concentrated hard on the details, her mind projecting butterfly pictures she had seen for reference. If it didn’t look right, she would try her best to paint over it and mix again.
It had to be perfect.
While Katelynn worked on her section, Jack continued to mix the colors he associated with his beloved. He made a soft outline in creamy peach, only just visible on the white canvas, and marked out the butterfly’s eyes in rich brown. Its antennae became the same sandy brown he’d mixed for Katelynn’s hair, and he made them feathery, more like a moth than a butterfly.
And that gave him an idea.
As Jack painted the wings, he gave them long, elegant tassels, like a luna moth. Shades of warm peach and tan, highlights in blue and gold, some white streaks, black hightlights … he finished by giving it a pair of eyespots, delicately marked in a rainbow pattern that stood out strikingly against the soft colors of the wings.
Sneaking a glance at his side, she could already see the difference in talent. But then again Jack painted for a living so it was to be expected. His was so wonderful that her hand stilled for a moment, merely admiring it.
“L-Love..that’s gorgeous..” she whispered, feeling like a small child painting next to an adult. The color in her cheeks grew over time as the question settled in her mind over how this was how he possibly thought of her.
He blushed once again as she said that. Yes, Katelynn had admired his work many times in the past, but for Jack, it meant something special to hear her call his image of her gorgeous. The blue man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m glad you like it.”
He reached over, painting a little heart on her cheek with the last bit of paint on his finger. “You deserve something gorgeous.”
Jack Maple 