Passion Painted in Shades of Red
Part 1
Three more days until Valentine's Day. Gemma sighed as she tore off the old calendar sheet. She hated Valentine's Day. And no, she didn't just hate it because she was alone - thank you very much. In her eyes, it was nothing but a tacky tradition to shower someone in chocolates they didn't like and buy red roses that cost three times the normal price.
She would just lay low and avoid any social media for the next few days, until the craziness that inevitably came with this stupid day had died down again. She huffed and shouldered her backpack. While everyone was busy swooning over each other, she would make good use of her time and head to the library to study.
Equipped with a few cereal bars and a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, she set off on her way. She was, however, stopped abruptly in her stride, when she rounded a corner and bumped into what looked like a big white wall.
"Watch it!" She heard a voice bark at her, but it was too late.
The lid of her coffee had opened in the collision and drenched the wall as well as herself in the - thankfully by now slightly cooled - dark brown liquid. She looked at her stained shirt and jacket. What a great start into the day.
"Don't you watch where you're going?"
A tall strawberry blonde woman looked down at her, annoyance written all over her face. Gemma looked up, equally irritated by the incident. The "wall" as it turned out, was a huge white canvas, now spluttered with brown coffee stains.
"Well, I hardly expected to run into a freaking canvas when rounding a corner!" She gave back in an upset tone and tossed the ruined cup of coffee into the bin next to her.
"A canvas that you now successfully ruined," the blonde bluffed at her.
"And what about my jacket and shirt? You think they look better with coffee stains all over them?"
The blonde's attitude really started to get on her nerves. When the woman stepped in closer in an attempt to intimidate her, Gemma straightened up to her full size. The woman might have a few inches on her thanks to her fucking high heels, but Gemma wasn't a small woman herself.
Seemingly impressed by Gemma's steadfastness, the woman's mouth turned into a sly smile.
"Tell you what, I take care of the coffee and the cleaning of your clothes and in return you help me fix my canvas issue. Deal?" She asked and in a very business-like manner, stretched out her hand.
Gemma hesitated for a second. Soiled as she was, she wouldn't be allowed in the library anyways. So why not let one hand wash the other? She shook the hand of the woman, momentarily surprised by her strong grip.
"Perfect, follow me then...," she said and waited for Gemma to fill the gap with her name.
"Ehm, Gemma," she said and the blonde nodded.
"Follow me, Gemma," she repeated and made her way down the street, the canvas in hand.
She turned left into the next alleyway and opened a glass door framed by black metal into a gallery of some sorts. The name "Cloe L. Rose" was written on it in fine golden letters.
It was rather dark, as not much sunlight reached the room on the ground floor. But it was a wide-open space with huge canvases, all covered in broad brushstrokes in various shades of red.
"You're a painter?" Gemma asked, as she wandered around the gallery, marvelling at the works of art.
"How did you guess?" Came the answer from the strawberry blonde and Gemma turned around to face her, ignoring the sarcasm in her voice.
"And I guess you are preparing for a Valentine's edition?" She gestured at the red paints on the table next to her.
"I was going for blood originally, but it just doesn't seem to sell as good as love. Plus, my name fits the Valentine's theme better. So...," she waved dismissively. "Now for the coffee canvas," she pointed Gemma to follow her. "I had an idea on how to turn the coffee stains into a part of the art piece."
She had laid the canvas on the floor on a thin sheet of plastic to protect the floor from unwanted paint splashes. As big as the canvas was, Gemma thought, she could probably fit her whole body on it.
"And what exactly did you have in mind?" Gemma asked, still confused on how she could be of use here.
"I want to show the movement of a woman's body in paint by painting with the body," she winked at her. "And if my idea works out in reality just as fine as it does in my head, I might want to add a few static pieces as well."
"You want to paint with... my body?" It clicked for Gemma.
"Precisely," Cloe answered and smiled. "Don't worry, it's art. And nothing I haven't seen before." She looked at Gemma expectantly.
"What? You mean now?" Gemma stuttered.
"Couldn't think of a better time. And while we occupy ourselves the cleaners next doors can take care of your shirt and jacket," she shrugged as if her proposal was the most obvious solution to resolve their incident. "Give me your jacket and shirt. The rest of your clothes you can take off in the backroom. I will bring your clothes next doors and you can wait here for me." She gestured to the canvas.
As if guided by a higher force, Gemma felt how she put down her backpack and slipped out of her jacket. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled the fabric of her shirt over her head and handed both to Cloe.
"Perfect," she said, her gaze lingering for a second on Gemma's dark green bra. "I'll be back in a sec."
