[from @cassiopeiagarcia]
Armed with a thin brush she held in a clenched right fist, so tightly her knuckles were white from the pressure, as if she was holding a loaded gun instead of a painting tool, Cass grabbed Kuina's arm.
After dipping the tip of her brush in black paint, the blonde girl started drawing. Flowers, of all the types she could think of — tulips, daisies, roses, carnations, lavenders, water lilies... all as realistic as she could make them, entwined intricately, like the bodies of two lovers a lazy Sunday morning, like the messes she usually got herself into. All the time, her dark eyebrows slightly frowned, her tongue peaking out from between her lips, a gesture of concentration that she couldn't avoid; must have had something to do with genetics, because Andro, Hércules and even Orión did the same thing.
'I'm no good with a marker, but I hope you still like it.' She said, once she was finished, stained fingers, stained soul. A passionate person, who kept giving pieces of herself to others and wanted Kuina to have one of them, in exchange for everything the woman had given her and her siblings: support, hope, love...
Mahogany orbs are transfixed between Cass' concentration and the intricate lines of ink staining peach-toned skin, drawn to the unyielding focus and dedication that shone in the woman's artwork. The brush tickles and sends goosebumps ghosting over Kuina's upper arm to her shoulder, the ink surprisingly just a touch colder than the air surrounding them. In seconds Kuina realizes what's being drawn--a flower. Not just one but several, ones she recognizes immediately and knows the name of, others she's not quite sure but finds breathtaking nonetheless.
She'd seen Cass' work scattered over every square surface of her room, rested in progress on easels, completed work hung on the walls, doodled on napkins littered throughout the Beach and left behind like a calling card of Cass was here. Even Kuina's room had traces of Cass' visits, smudges on the handles of her drawers from her bikini and swimsuit stash, the knobs of her doors, the window sill, even her sheets. Always a trace of Cass to be found somewhere, like a piece of her left behind.
When Cass announced she was finished, Kuina was in awe, staring with a bewildered expression at the floral arrangement that decorated her skin. "I love it," She breathed, smile blooming across her face. "Let's go ask Last Boss who his tattoo artist was cause I could see myself getting this permanently." A one-of-a-kind piece to keep with her. From Cass, with love.
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