Matty's POV
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Delicate lines make up the beginning of a portrait of the love of my life. Some faint. Some bolder. My biggest consideration is that they have to fall naturally and perfectly on the page.
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Drawing Taylor, I've done it many times. During our relationship, every now and then she might have been thinking about something, or not doing anything at all or even sleeping and I would just ache to put pen to paper. From memory I would just draw her, because the way she looks to me is art.
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We spent the day with Ross, our friends and randomly the nurse Olivia who seems to be continually present most of the time. Don't they work shifts? I push that thought away looking down on the page, I'm sitting at the large oak table at Taylor's. The lighting is great and her music is on low. I am drinking, but not beer, red wine instead.
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"What am I doing in this print then" she asks looking up from her cooking. Shes making coq au vin. Im finishing up the remainder of the red wine that she doesn't need for cooking. Her face free of makeup, skin glowing she looks at me.
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A wry smile on my lips, I regard her briefly and then look back down at my print.
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"No, that would ruin the surprise" I say concentrating. She bites her lip, and checks on the chicken.
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It's not necessary for her to be still in front of me or for her to pose. I know Taylor; her expressions, the lines of her body and the waves of her hair. This particular moment I'm drawing is one from our time together whilst Jay has been away.
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Countless nights I would draw her when we were at mine. I remember the way her back curves, her shoulders and her clavicles. I've committed them to memory. So much so that at times my pencil just flows without me even thinking or having to look.
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As I progress however, her body and the changes that have occurred since pregnancy astound me, and through drawing her I feel as though I am learning her body all over again.
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I glance up quickly through my lashes to get the curve of her bump just right, her hand delicately placed under it as she hums along to the music.
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"Have you drawn many other people, Matthew" she asks stirring the casserole pot and placing it back in the oven.
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"Real life people that I know, no. People in pictures for work at university, yes" I say simply and chuckle slightly. Taylor will think me obsessed with her, and she wouldn't be wrong.
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"People are intricate. In order to get them right you have to know them very well" I say softly sketching.
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"Yeah" she sighs and then goes back to humming.
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The serenity of her humming takes me away and I sketch and shade until I'm almost getting to an outline of what I want this piece to look like. Occasionally looking out of the large doors to the patio where the sun is setting behind the trees in the distance, I sip my wine and watch her.
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"It's almost done" she says opening the oven door.
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I get up, close the sketch book and donning the oven gloves I lift it out of the oven for her. She smiles appreciatively. We changed when we got in from the hospital, it's warm and she's wearing just a loose t shirt, that swings over her thighs. I watch her plate up the food and sigh wishing I could just be with her. All of the time.
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"Let me" I say carrying the plates over to the table.
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"Nope" she sighs and I look over my shoulder at her.
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"We're using the dining room tonight" she smiles walking out of the kitchen.
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"Wouldn't want to get anything on your art stuff" she explains walking away from me and down the hall. I follow her, I remember the dining room in this place from parties.
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When she opens the double doors, the room doesn't disappoint. Its vast wall of windows looking out onto the grande gardens. With it being dusk the automatic lighting glows, amber hues highlighting the trees and acres of land.
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To the far wall is a bar, fully working and stocked. Lots of whiskey, just so very Jay. The walls adorned with fabric wallpaper, and a large dining table in the centre of the oak floor. I laugh slightly imagining her sitting at the far end from me and us not being able to hear one another.
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Taylor places my wine down at the head of the table, and pulling out the chair next to it she takes a seat looking up at me. I can't help but to stare at her before I set the plates down.
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"This looks and smells delicious" I say taking a seat next to her.
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"You've had this dish before" she smiles.
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"Quite a few times, it was a favourite" I chuckle.
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"Mmmm" I say taking a first bite of the chicken.
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"I gotta say" I add cheekily.
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"I miss a lot about us, but this Taylor, I miss hugely" I laugh.
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"My cooking" she laughs.
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"Your cooking, this dish, watching you cook, and eating with you" I sigh laughing, red wine taking over my inhibitions slowly.
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She smiles and her hand brushes mine just lightly.
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There's something about food when it's cooked with love and patience. I eat every last bit of the food she has prepared and when I'm done I look up to her smile. Wondering how I could ever have let this woman walk away from me.
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There is a moment when her eyes meet mine and I just melt. All the cares in the world wash away. I lean in and she breathes in sharply.
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"One more" I whisper.
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"And that will never be true, Matthew" she sighs.
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I smile watching her eyes, twinkling blue eyes that regard mine.
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"Well then" I say slowly.
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"I'll have to get back to that picture then" I whisper, my face merely inches from hers.
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"And I'll have to make us desert" she says not breaking my eye contact. I hold her eye contact for a fraction longer and then I stand. Make the first move, collecting the plates and head back to my wine and drawing.
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