Like One of Your French Girls (Erik/casual)

[JANE EYRE]

Meeting a kindred spirit was one thing but meeting a fellow artist who was neglected by society who connected with Jane in such a fundamentally right way who was also a kindred spirit was a rare and precious thing. When Jane had met Erik in the graveyard she hadn't expected to find someone who understood everything. He had let her see him without the mask and had even posed for her. She had painted him, bare by his standards, and Jane was keen on returning the favor. Despite knowing that Erik usually painted nudes Jane had wanted to repay his patience. It came up about him possibly painting, or drawing her, and Jane offered to actually do it.

Standing outside his door, her bag clutched tightly in hand, Jane regretted that decision. For one blinding moment she feared inferiority and embarassment. What if, even though he kept calling her beautiful, couldn't draw her? What if his work made her's seem like child's play? What if he did ask her to pose nude for him? How on earth would she respond to that? He said he painted all nudes tastefully...she could just ask to see some examples first. Perhaps there'd be a way for her to cover up while remaining true to the concept. No one has ever seen Jane, not since she would bathe herself. The mere idea of baring it all to a man was absurd!

Shaking her head to clear away those thoughts, Jane raised a hand and knocked on the door. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what would happen once inside.

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik was a nervous wreck. He wanted desperately to impress Jane, that he set about in a frenzy to clean his home, removing every empty wine glass, every crumpled, discarded music sheet, and making sure nothing of extreme secrecy was laying out in the open. He hid most of his nude paintings, only keeping out the ones that he deemed safe enough to show Jane. He hoped they would please her artistically, and make her blush emotionally. He did so love to see her blush.

He wasn't used to being around people. Much less a woman. Much less a girl. Which is what Jane really was. A girl twenty-six years his junior. It was completely indecent, him wanting to draw one so young when he was so old. Though it really wasn't like he was going to ask her to pose nude for him.

Was he?

He trembled at the thought. He'd never been in the presence of a naked woman before, and the idea baffled him. And he'd always thought Jane to be one to stick to the modest aspects of life. She alwasy wore conservative clothing, and he got the feeling from her that she'd never shown herself to a man before.

This made his heart race just thinking about it! But he couldn't... Or could he? Perhaps he ask her to pose for him, just this once? He was a very fast sketcher. He would promise himself it would not get out of hand.

She was simply gorgeous though.

Not in the conventional sense, much like he himself was beautiful in her eyes. She was beautiful in his. Yes, he could see why many would call her small and plain, but he could find no reason for himself to. She was one of the most enchanting and ravishing women he'd ever seen.

When he'd found everything to his liking in his apartment, the couch situated and an area where he would sit to draw her, he heard a knock on the door.

This was it.

His heart was pounding.

He would ask her, just to hear her say yes or no. Rejection or acceptance from her lips were both welcome, as long as he could hear her voice.

He answered the door.

"Hello, M'amselle."

[JANE EYRE]

The few moments it took for Erik to answer the door seemed like an eternity to Jane. Not knowing what was going to happen played on Jane's nerves like uncertainty always did. Jane was used to it, to an extent but she wasn't terribly fond of it. For an instant Jane entertained the thought of leaving before Erik got the door but the door opened, solving the issue for Jane.

"Hello, M'amselle."

"Hello Erik," Jane replied, a shy smile on her face. Her hands twisted her bag's handle even more. Her upbringing screamed at her to not go inside, that it wasn't appropriate for her to be in a man's private apartment. A single man's private apartment alone. Jane could see into Erik's apartment, it all seemed innocent enough. After all, she already had him over to paint him, alone and unattended. Nothing bad had happened there (unless she counted his complete breakdown and inability to return a hug properly).

"How are you?" Jane asked; she was a bit jumpy. She didn't even wait for him to invite her inside before starting up conversation. Jane didn't know how to conduct herself. Her high-collared shirt was starting to itch around the neck and Jane knew it was from her being uneasy. Rubbing at the collar lightly, Jane told herself to calm down.

One artist to another. That was all.

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik fiddled with the door handle, leaning on the frame of the entryway with nervousness written all over his face. He was sure she could see how blatantly flustered he was, not only because of her presence at his home, but because that presence was the first female one to even grace the area outside the door. He was giddy with delight inside, though he'd never show THAT. Oh no never.

"I-I am well M'amselle," he fumbled. He was lost totally dizzy in her splendor, the way she rubbed at the collar of her shirt in that flushed manner of hers, it was just divine. He blushed and moved aside, gesturing her in. "Won't you please come in?"

[JANE EYRE]

Jane nodded thankfully and ducked inside, moving past Erik with a wide bearth between them. It seemed that Erik was just as flustered and nervous as she was. Jane's hands moved from wringing the poor handle on her purse to wringing each other. Her knuckles popped from being pressed and twisted and Jane cringed. What a disgusting sound that was. Looking around, Jane saw that the apartment was relatively well kept but saw obvious traces of a creative person living there.

Her eyes were drawn to a makeshift drawing station and took a step towards it, feeling more at ease almost instantly. Art always was able to calm Jane down, no matter the situation.

"How would you like me to pose?" Jane asked, turning to face the still nervous Erik. She felt the same butterflies deep inside. The dizzying effect of Erik's home didn't go unnoticed. The black and white walls, the wide opens spaces and the practical use of everything seemed so far removed from anything Jane had ever seen that she couldn't help but be absorbed by it. It was a powerful combination of styles and contrasting colors, a beautiful sight if Jane had ever seen one. She had always been drawn to contrast, it provided the "spice of life" in her opinion.

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik wrung his hands together in nervousness, as no woman had ever set foot in his home before. It should have been a bigger deal than it was, but he was already dying of fright to begin with. What if she thought him a pervert? Impertinant? Obtuse? So many possibilities, and yet he knew that he had to draw her that way. It was the only way he could ever dream of drawing her, not because he was lusting after her (which, lets face it, he was), but because he percieved the highest form of beauty was a woman's natural form.

"Just... Just um... Just there..." he rubbed the back of his head, looking away, strutting over to his chair and artistic area. He sat, waiting for her to sit down, and began flipping through his sketchbook to find a blank page.

Unfortunately, most of the notebook was filled with nude women, and he was sure Jane must have been peering over his shoulder, and he was sure she would see his face heat up in embarrassment.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane couldn't help herself, she peeked at Erik's notebook before she sat down where he wished. Page after page was filled with sketches of women, done in the nude. Jane felt herself blush lightly at the first image, her embarassment growing with each image that flashed by. Surely, by taking out a book filled with nothing but nudes, Erik intended to ask the same of her. Jane dismissed the thought swiftly. Erik had proved to be nothing less than a complete gentleman, why would he ask her something so...so...personal.

Jane sat down hurriedly in her usual manner and ducked her head.

It was so strange, the mere thought of a man wanting to draw her that way. Jane couldn't even begin to fathom why he would. Edward had but by that point Jane had developed serious reservations about his mental health.

"Um...what would you like me to do?" Jane asked, her voice breaking a little towards the end. She feared the answer but needed to know at the same time. She couldn't just sit there not knowing what was to come.

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik hadn't really planned on how to have her pose for him. It had only been one thought going through his mind. 'You must draw her! You must!' the thought said. It was rather irritating, but nonetheless, here she was, ready to pose.

And Lord knows he wanted her to pose like the women in his sketch book. It was highly improper, he knew, but it was just professional, right? What would she think of him, some kind of pervert? Or just an artist, like she said she thought of him as?

What to do! He was at a loss, and just stared at her, trying to form a coherent sentence! His entire body was on fire at the thought of his request, until he saw the look on her face. She thought he really was going to ask her! Oh dear, that would never do. She must have seen the drawings! Stop being so careless Erik!

Upon seeing her face, he began apologizing in a frezny. "No no, you misunderstand. You don't have to--to pose nude for me. That's just, I mean, not unless you're comfortable with it, and we don't know each other THAT well, and I wasn't--I mean--Uh!"

Facepalm.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane smiled at Erik's fumbling apology. It was sweet in a way, that he got so worked up over the situation. She didn't have an answer for it, not really. Jane most certainly wasn't comfortable with posing nude though the artistic value of it was incredible. There was a reason why college art students drew nude models for half of a year. The anatomical understand it provided and the visual representation of muscle movement and angles could easily bleed through into other art forms. Muscle was in everything, as were angles and soft, humanoid shapes.

Regardless, Jane didn't think that she could pose nude for Erik. It was unspeakably innappropriate. Even if she had wanted him to see her in such a state (which she didn't though the idea wasn't completely objectionable when phrased that way) Jane couldn't. Her upbringing demanded to see her as a wife before it could happen.

"What if..." Jane paused and looked about, trying to find words for the idea in her mind. It would be similar but still modest enough for her. "If you had a sheet, perhaps. I can't pose completely nude, Erik, but if there was something that I could cover up with...perhaps...."

It was for art. Just lie back and think of England.