When she stepped from the shower, Ruby felt like a changed woman. After drying off with the big, fluffy towel hanging from the rack, she took a moment to work the tangles loose from her hair. Satisfied with the results, she reached for the terrycloth robe hanging from the back of the bathroom door. Short on her host, it reached nearly to her ankles. After securely tying the belt, she opened the bathroom door. Her nostrils were greeted by the combination of brewing coffee and frying bacon. Suddenly realizing how long it had been since her last meal, she followed her nose to the smell.
Looking up as she walked in, the man's eyes lit with an unidentifiable glow, somewhere between admiration and relief. "I'm glad to see you up. You make that robe look better than I ever did." Without another word, he served up a plate of bacon and eggs, with hash browns on the side, and a hot cup of coffee. As she sat and ravenously ate her fill, he merely leaned on the table, watching her with nothing short of wonder.
Pausing to take a breath between bites, Ruby said, "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Ruby. And you?"
"My name is Michael. I've seen you walking by so many times. I saw you last night, even. I'd never seen the boy, though, and even from here I could see the fear on your face. An artist's eye, I guess."
"You're an artist? What do you draw?" Ruby had always respected artists. Stick figures and coloring within the lines were the extent of her artistic talents.
"Still lifes, mostly. I can paint an apple with my eyes closed. I occasionally venture into portraits, but am too harsh a critic of myself to show others my work." He flushed with embarrassment, adding, "Would you like to see some?"
Laughing slightly at his discomfiture, she nodded. Dropping the empty plate in the sink, he led her to his studio. Spread out before her were twenty paintings, some complete, some in progress. Most of them had one uniting element: her.
"I take pictures of the people walking by. They are my models. You are, by far, my favorite." He said all this with his eyes glued to the floor. As she walked from painting to painting, she saw herself as Michael must. She was stunned by the revelation. No matter how many others were in the picture, she was always the brightest, most detailed. It seemed as though a photograph had been taken with everything else out of focus.