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Post by JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS on Jul 11, 2011 23:02:52 GMT -5
Erik stayed against the wall, quietly content in watching the younger woman become more confident with each passing second. He could tell that he'd helped her reach some part of her that she hadn't accessed before... And... It was very beautiful. As he watched her, it became poingantly clear that little Jane was simply far more than just an artist... She was quite the woman... Not in the traditional sense, like a sex symbol or whatnot... But a beautiful, flittery creature. Like a butterfly.
Oh, what was he saying? She was his... friend, no matter how he struggled with the word (or concept). And yet with each smile, each laugh, each glimmer of a twinkle in her eye, his heart was melting in slow motion.
And she mouthed a thank you.
Thank you... A phrase so rarely used around him. No one thanked him for anything. Mostly because he never helped anyone, period. It was not in his nature.
But he had helped her. What was he thinking? Was he insane? Well, yes of course he was. But that didn't mean he was allowed to help people! It wasn't in his capacity! Not when there was nothing but distrust and malice surrounding his life. But now this! She had been kind to him, and now he is kind back.
What did that mean? What could he say to her to convey this overwhelming feeling building up inside of him?
It couldn't be love, could it?
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JANE EYRE
High Class
Jane Eyre
"Small and plain, not heartless."
Posts: 578
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Post by JANE EYRE on Jul 12, 2011 17:50:30 GMT -5
Eventually, the crowd that had gathered so suddenly ebbed in the same way it had began. One minute Jane was surrounded by people, the next she was left standing alone. Jane sighed, relieved that it was all done with as well as helping the feeling of exhiliration leave her. Running a hand through her hair, Jane turned to Erik and smiled brightly.
She started to make her way over to where he stood, noting the odd feeling inside. It was like a nest of butterflies, fluttering about in her chest, making it hard to breath but feeling wonderful all at the same time. Jane recognized the feeling almost immediately. It was the same feeling that had started to burn with Edward, just before the final devastating plunge into mindless love.
It was just as terrifying now as it had been then.
Jane was scared to feel that way again, scared because of what had happened last time. To a degree, Jane was still frightened of Erik; their first meeting was still fresh in her mind. The bruises he had left on her neck hadn't faded for nearly a month and the image of Erik, crouching behind a tombstone because of his face was still with her.
And yet, he let her paint him.
Jane sighed again and stood beside Erik, still smiling even though her recent introspection had caused such ill-feelings.
"That was wonderful," Jane said breathily, adrenaline from the attention still pumping through her.
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Post by JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS on Jul 15, 2011 12:48:09 GMT -5
Erik was slightly calm at that moment. His shock at his growing feelings completely immobilized his emotions, and his body responded accordingly by becoming aloof and nonchalant. It was a good reaction, one that would most definitely confuse and disorient Jane, which is exactly what he wanted.
Of course he didn't want to love her. Erik couldn't love. And the feeling wasn't that intense yet, and he hoped it never would be. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel this way, but he knew that she certainly never could. After all, he had hurt her. That was no sign of love, at least not where he came from. He knew his mother never loved him simply because of how much he had hurt her, had caused her pain. No one could love him.
So he tried to be as stoic as possible, still keeping that all concealing smile plastered on his face, the cocky expression masking his displeasure at this revelation. "I'm sure it was, M'amselle. Of course it should be delightful when you get the attention you deserve."
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JANE EYRE
High Class
Jane Eyre
"Small and plain, not heartless."
Posts: 578
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Post by JANE EYRE on Jul 15, 2011 15:53:46 GMT -5
"I'm sure it was, M'amselle. Of course it should be delightful when you get the attention you deserve."
Something about Erik's expression disturbed Jane. It was like she couldn't see him. She was looking at a different sort of mask than the one he always wore and she didn't know what for. Erik liked to hide, Jane knew that, but she always had a good idea as to why up until this moment. Jane didn't know why he was hiding, what he was hiding, or if she had done something to cause it.
"I hardly deserve it," Jane couldn't help saying. She didn't feel like she did. She was an artist, true, but she wasn't nearly as talented as some of the people who were showing. She wasn't even an artist full-time. Jane didn't even like being the center of attention. Obviously Erik was not the same. Erik thrived on the attention of others and fet that all should do the same. Jane couldn't do that.
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Post by JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS on Jul 21, 2011 18:27:07 GMT -5
Erik scoffed, disappointed in Jane's response. "Nonsense. I know a fantastic artist when I see one my dear. Take my word for it: you deserve it." He nodded with a smile tugging at one side of his lips, but not moving further than that. He gestured to the painting. "Art is a subjective creature. It can be as hideous and wretched to some as it is moving and thought provoking to others." He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You of all people should know this."
He was frustrated with her incessant claims that she was not worth anything. It was ludicrous to assume that someone such as her was meaningless when someone like he existed. Was she mad? Deranged? It angered him when these normal people, people who looked and acted decent, made it seem like their lives were so difficult. They truly weren't, he could assure them. That is, if they ever asked him. Which they didn't.
He'd realized his mind had been elsewhere, and he'd been fiddling with his fingers and staring off into space. He righted himself, clearing his throat. "I apologize," he said to her. "I'm afraid my mind gets preoccupied with other things far too easily, especially--"
He stopped himself. There he went again, almost speaking his mind. It was a dreadful thing that he needed to stop right then, but unfortunately her pretty little expectant eyes seemed to squeeze every drop of honest out of his body.
"Especially with all this artwork around me."
'Especially when you stand so near.'
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JANE EYRE
High Class
Jane Eyre
"Small and plain, not heartless."
Posts: 578
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Post by JANE EYRE on Jul 21, 2011 22:55:00 GMT -5
Jane looked down at the ground, snubbing the linoleum with the toe of her shoe as Erik spoke. A fantastic artist. He truly meant it. Jane couldn't believe that he did. Surely he was just saying it because she had painted him. A compliment in return for effort set forth. Jane told herself that was the crux of it, nothing more. When he called her out for the subjective, limbic nature of art, Jane felt herself blush for an entirely different reason. Shame. It was wretched and filling. She knew that, she knew it intrinsically.
Jane felt her own mind wandering, through what had transpired since she entered the art gallery. Erik's rapidly changing and always aloof demeanor was something that she was sure she could never get used to. His every action made her question something about him, herself, and whatever was between them.
His comment brought her back to reality.
"I understand completely," Jane nodded, looking away from Erik and to an art piece across the room. It was a portrait woven into a tapestry. Phenomenal and yet, so simple. Jane tiled her head as she looked at it from the distance.
"How long are you allowed to be away from the piano?" Jane had assumed that Erik had been hired which meant that he was on a time schedule. She wouldn't want to interfere with his work.
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Post by JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS on Aug 9, 2011 19:57:39 GMT -5
Erik rubbed his arms at the gravity of this situation. It was becoming most troublesome when his thoughts revolved around the woman in front of him. Women in general were a dangerous territory, much more so than the even more general term "people." They displayed feelings and little nuances that Erik wasn't sure he could handle. The way they fiddled with their hair and yelled and cried and left him...
God, he was thinking about his mother again, wasn't he?
This often happened to him, the poor soul. Should he ever be confronted with an immediate situation he didn't want to face (such as his growing feelings for one Mlle. Jane Eyre), he would either resort to music or thoughts of his mother. His quite distant mother, who had died of heartfailure at such a young age, all do to his inadequacy as a son. He never wanted to hurt her, and only felt it humanly possible for him to do the same to Jane. He would drive her to the breaking point, he just knew.
These sorts of thoughts, as the two of them stood awkwardly together, forced his face into a grimace, and he rubbed his temple. "However long I wish," he said curtly. "I am not being paid."
He began to close in on himself, and it would only be a matter of time before the fireworks started.
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JANE EYRE
High Class
Jane Eyre
"Small and plain, not heartless."
Posts: 578
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Post by JANE EYRE on Aug 12, 2011 17:01:36 GMT -5
However long I wish, I am not being paid."
Jane smiled up at Erik, frowning inwardly as he rubbed his temple. Was he getting a headache? "That's terribly kind of you," It didn't strike her as something Erik would do but she wasn't going to say that. He was being generous in offering up him time and talent for the gallery opening and Jane wasn't going to try and dissuade him from it. From what Jane had seen of Erik thus far, she had gathered quite easily that he wasn't a typically giving person. No, that was being nice. Erik was selfish but Jane didn't mind it too much.
After all, he wasn't that bad.
Sighing, Jane looked back at the art in front of them. "I was really glad to see you here today. I was expecting the afternoon to be a bore," A bore, almost painfully alone and isolated, among other things. Jane hated being on display in any capacity though Erik's prodding had helped some. Jane still wasn't entirely comfortable with it, or the odd looks patrons were giving them in their corner, but it was better than it could have been.
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