V17: Cerulean Blue Jasmine Hughes • Fiction
Ari’s chilled fingers steadied the paintbrush as she slid it over his arm. He was on her table, lying flat against the chippedat wood. Dust swirled around the brightness of her lamp. She ducked under the angled ceiling as she reached for a new brush; her collection was in an old paint tin that was filled to the brim with water. She returned to him, dipping the smaller brush in a new color. On his fingers, she darkened the lines of his knuckles and added a few freckles on his skin. The light on her desk hid the dark circles and newly formed acne spots. As the paint dried, she examined his details. She gritted her teeth and checked the time. Much too late to keep working. Flipping the switch on her desk lamp, she rose to her feet. Across the room she curled up on the floor between her two blankets, with her head resting on a fraying throw pillow. Dreams swirled in her mind, they were rose-colored fairy tales that brought a smile to her sleeping face. He would be perfect—better than all of the people she’d ever met. Especially better than him. The following morning, she dug out whatever money she could find from the empty crevices in her loft. Most was spare change 56 •
