Portrait

My girlfriend was trying to draw me and kept messing up the eyes. That sparked this. MorMor. Have fun kids!

Italics=Jim Bold=Sebastian

The pencil lines flowed from Jim's hands like blood

The graphite made the softest of scratches

Scrt

Scrt

Against the rough paper

Sharp angles on a chisled face

So familiar to the artist

Connect the chin

Shift the paper

Scratchy stubble

Pencil flung across the room

Charcoal plucked fresh from the box

Hair made to touch

The ghost of the feel of locks running through his fingers

And tickling his cheeks

Cropped and military

Messy from fingers brushing quickly

Nose and cheekbones

Is that right?

Crooked nose, smashed so many times

Cheekbones prominent, but not so much

Scar from nose to jaw

Was that from the tiger or Jim?

Thin lips, so chapped and rough

That plump flesh raises feelings so

In the usually so unkind man

Who draws them…tenderly?

From love to passion

Lust and hate

A quick servey

Does it look right?

Quick sketch a neck and collar bone

Should I draw the bites or give the allusion of innocence?

Impish grin and smudges and bites litter the paper

Now the eyes

Jim's favorite

Calculating and sly

Not as quick as Jim's

But just as devious

Always wondering

The best way to kill

Just how to do it

Toy a bit?

Or end it quick?

And when it's just him and Jim

Fury when they fight

Lust when they don't

Love that few times

Late at night

When he thinks Jim can't see

But Jim does

Wide and bright

German descent

Slight uptilt

Native American somewhere long ago

Grandparents and a great or four

Lashes

Oddly long for a man

Perhaps Jim will color the irises

If he can find just the right ruddy color

Now for the other

It's going alright

Curve of the eyelid and—

FUCK!

No!

NO!

Shit!

Erase, erase, erase…

Start again

Fuck, this is not what his eyes look like!

But something is always wrong

Too big

Too small

Too close

Too narrow

Too wide

Finally, Jim gives up

In disgust

Breaking charcoal rings through the room

Curses loud

Forgets about the sleeping man in the next room

Not asleep now

Jim throws something across the paper.

Red liquid in a well-used beaker

Falling across where the eyes should be

More curses

It's ruined…

Jim thinks

Bitterly

It was supposed to be special

Jim was brooding when a pair of arms came around his waist

"Darling, what are you doing?"

Sebastian whispered in Jim's ear

Pouting

"Your eyes are so…frustratingly hateful."

Jim muttered

Sebastian peered at the bauched portrait

"Is that blood or paint?"

"Both. From the last one."

The last murder

Jim had fun with that one

Blood and paint for a message to Sherlock

Sebastian pressed his lips to Jim's neck

"I think it looks better that way."

Jim shivered

"Come back to bed."

Husky and deep

Only blood and Jim could do that to Sebastian

And he had both

"Yes pet."