The Portrait

By Evenstar

His hand slid over the canvas and to him the marks of brush had imbibed the stretched fabric with a living skin. The subtle changes in colour from one facet to another were as vital and thrumming as if real blood coursed just beneath the surface. Every nuance and subtlety seemed brighter and louder than a symphony's evocations. The light illuminating the subject's visage had come solely from the artist's perception and imagination, but could not have been more sublime had God torn a rift in the veil between Heaven and Earth to let his grace shine down upon it. His fingers played lightly over the paint again, genuinely surprised within himself that when he stroked the hair it was somewhat rough even though from even a slight distance it appeared softer than a newborn's. However, despite all the fascination he was experiencing with the painting as a whole it was consumed by one specific aspect, the eyes.

Eyes were the window to a person's soul, that had been canon in where's and whys of the world since the dawn of time. It didn't matter what breed of creature an individual was, one serious, investigative look into anything's eyes told you more about them than hours of dialogue ever could. He tried to move from the figure's line of sight, but no matter from which angle or distance he placed himself, the eyes followed him. They could not withdraw from staring at each other, as futile as if he was trying to deny the command of his own reflection, not that he remembered what that was really like. The colour of them was ethereal, surely it couldn't exist beyond the realms of magic and antiquity, but somehow it had been plucked from that place and poured into the canvas.

"Do you like it?" Buffy asked, hopeful. She'd been very nervous to present Spike with such an unconventional gift, but after running the gamut of possibilities over in her mind, none of them seemed quite right. He was a special case, she dared to wager he was delicate when it came to choosing gifts. Something fringe might be taken as either insulting or deliciously wicked, most of the time she could tell, but she didn't want to risk having an ill effect on this special day. If it was overly sentimental or romantic he might treat it as too precious or, heaven forbid, silly or less than meaningful. She stood just out of his reach, trying to gauge his emotions. From the second she'd unveiled the gift he hadn't said a word, he'd did seem pretty wrapped up in it and that could only be a good sign. "I wanted to get you something different for our anniversary, something that would last...something to remember me by..."

"Buffy, love, please don't talk like that....I asked you not to..." He continued to look at the painting and not her, but his emotions on the subject were clear. Their love was never ending, time nor death could sever the bond. Buffy despite the fact that he was the immortal one she seemed more prepared than he for inevitability.

"I'm not going to live forever....there's going to come a day..."

"You're still in your 20s...you're young and healthy...I can't think about the future, not that future...." Buffy closed the gap between them and put her arm around his waist and he reciprocated with one around her shoulders. "How?"

"Oh...it wasn't too big an undertaking....Tara has an artist friend...I just brought over photos and spent some time with her, telling her what I wanted, what I thought about it all...what it meant to me. She was really amazing....and so talented, she sees the world from a totally different place than the rest of us. She couldn't have done better than a photographer taking a picture at getting it right....but this is better I think. Almost like..."

"It's alive."

"Exactly. I also thought maybe you'd understand...wasn't portraiture a big deal back when you were, you know, human?"

"Well....photography was just coming around in a big way...but if you had the dosh, or if you were pretentious enough you'd go and sit and have yourself done....usually went over the bloody fireplace....that way they could look down on everyone."

"Is that where this one should go? I was kinda hoping in our bedroom. You didn't answer my question... you like?"

"Buffy....I don't even have the words to tell you how much this means to me....I love it....I love you....it's just so...it's surreal."

"The artist told me that the reason she does faces is because it makes her feel like she's creating life....like each painting is like a child....she gives it a part of her soul with each one at the same takes the soul of her subject and funnels it through the brush, the paints and with the last stroke traps it there on the canvas...I think it's true."

"I do too.....I just never thought it would be possible.....I can't believe it's really me."

 

~Fin~