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He was often surprised that he had not noticed her sooner. Especially after learning how predictable her patterns often were. He could easily give any number of reasons why she may not have caught his eye before, but the truth was more rooted in the way she caught his attention that summer afternoon.
How could she not catch his eye in that red dress? It looked like it had been made for her body with the way that it hugged her curves, wrapping around the top of her body. Yet the bottom of the dress fluttered with the breeze of her steps. The light way that the fabric brushed her naked thighs began to make him jealous. She was wearing a low nude heel, which seemed overly practical for the dress, but she also had a wide brimmed, bright red hat. A colorful scarf fluttered behind her, as if mocking him with its closeness to her neck.
“Living art,” the words teased as a whisper on his lips as he watched her pass through the park.
She had cast such a spell, deep into his heart, he was unable to stop himself from slowly rising to follow her. He had to know more about this woman. He needed to know which of his dreams she had been born from to achieve such a stunningly perfect form.
The way that she walked made it clear that she knew red was her color. Even in the heat of midday, he could not stop what the color did to him. The way the color wrapped around her, flowing and beautiful. He swallowed hard, so many beautiful memories of that color; but they never lived long after he painted them that way. She was something different, “living art.”
From that point, time didn’t seem to matter. The many details he picked up as the days went by were their own reward. The way she had awakened this need within him was stirring to his very core, steadily growing like an addiction. Slipping into the routine of her life had brought such a deep calm, that he hardly recognized himself any longer.
*****
Tonight had been like most weeknights. He had followed his goddess home from work. It was very obvious to him that she had a great day. She stopped at the butcher on the way home and had purchased a sizable ribeye steak.
He was rather fond of this butcher’s work. He had watched him after the first time he caught the man playfully bantering with her. He was not about to leave her without the butcher’s skill. He was also willing to give the man a pass, due to the wife and small children that he also had.
He especially enjoyed following her when she wore that denim skirt. Not only was the dark wash and gentle fading a testament to what denim could do for a female; but the narrow fit adjusted her walk to accentuate her shape. That skirt had caused the one time he was caught watching her.
It had been in the late fall. She had worn that skirt with a knee high heeled boot to meet her friends out at a sports bar. It was clearly done as an accommodation to her friends, because he was well aware that she did not care for sports. Though the mid-lighting of the establishment provided a secluded corner for him to monitor from.
The jovially drunk young man that happened to notice him almost seemed to have come out of nowhere, and catching him off guard was not a feeling that he appreciated. It had only taken a moment for him to realize that the man only noticed him after the local team had scored, and he appeared to be the only one that was not celebrating this. His eyes had betrayed him as he had been watching her reaction to the event.
“Fuck! God went all the way out the day he made that bitch, eh?”
Despite the disgusting feeling as the drunken man embraced him, he was forced to drop his careful watch to attend to the man who had barged into his personal space. He turned his focus to the man, and with a quick shift in his demeanor, ordered them a pitcher of beer to share. The man was already so drunk that he wasn’t even aware that his benefactor did not drink any of the beer from the pitcher. Why would one willingly drink a poisoned beverage? He had made sure the man paid for the insult to his goddess. Not that anyone would find his remains, nor recognize them if they did.
The memory brought a smirk to his lips. That skirt had certainly brought out his more sadistic side that night. Tonight it was proving him with a delightful show as she made her way home with a bit of pep in her step. She was really quite lucky to have such a diligent and skilled protector, even if she didn’t realize what he put into watching over her.
This was something that had only become more evident as he found out more about his carelessly beautiful goddess. She had arrived home after dark, and it was easy to simply follow around the back of her house. She had started the steak as soon as she arrived home, and lively music was drifting through the open kitchen window with the scent of her favorite seasonings soaking into the broiling steak.
Her elevated mood was confirmed as he listened to her singing along to her music as she danced around her kitchen. Her voice alone was enough to tame the beasts that lived in his soul, but knowing that she was wearing one of his favorite garments, he chanced a few glances inside the window.
It was easily dark enough outside, and she was in her safest space. She never seemed to look out of her semi open windows. He loved the way her body moved when she was in her freest state. It was the kind of passion for living that he had never seen anywhere else.
She had been putting on such a delightful show that he almost felt bad when the steak’s timer went off and she was forced to end her dancing and singing. Thought it would certainly be more of a tragedy if she did not take her steak medium rare, especially when she purchased such great cuts of meat.
He followed around the side of the house as she took her dinner and a large glass of wine into the living room. She easily became comfortable on the couch and dug into the steak while one of her favorite shows played on the large TV in her front room. Yes, she had truly been an adorable creature of habit.
She finished off the steak and made short work of the dishes after her evening programs were finished. It disappointed him to see how much time she spent chatting on her phone. He really felt that she should get out more, it was not healthy to spend so much time on her own.
She moved across the house, now shutting the front room down and started to get her evening routine into motion. Her music had been turned back on and he was compelled to sneak another peek as she selected her nightclothes. He had memorized most of her active wardrobe, so he liked to bet with himself on which items she would pick at any given moment.
If he was honest, there were few things about her routine that he enjoyed more than watching her strip down for her shower. She had an intricate tattoo of flowers that wove up her arm and down her back. Even with the provocative nature of her apparel, this tattoo was never seen in it’s full beauty outside of her bathroom. After a while of introspection, he felt it was a reflection of her own self respect over any presumed shyness.
He moved back out of the window, and relaxed into the steamy scents that drifted from the bathroom window while she showered. He had been through her bathroom enough times to know the root of each scent. He found her fondness for floral scents incredibly pleasant. Light cherry blossom scented her hair, and indulgent peony graced her beautiful skin. Yet, he knew very well that the products alone could not recreate the way he felt when they were mixed with her scent.
His heart pounded in his chest and he began to feel light headed as he sat quietly below the window. She had brought him such inspiration since he had found her. Every part of his work had become more inspired. He respected his own details on a much deeper level as he took hers in.
He had gotten lost in thought and didn’t realize that she was already finished with her shower and had brushed her hair and teeth. The bathroom went dark and her music went silent as she moved to her bed. He cut across the back of the house and positioned himself under the bedside window.
He enjoyed the pleasant sound of her humming as she plugged in her phone and tucked herself into bed. He was especially careful to be silent while she relaxed into her bed. Since she had been in a good mood all night, he was hopeful that one of her last routines was about to play out as well.
His hopefulness was met with a swift reward as he soon heard her soft whimpers coming from the other side of the window. It was a beautiful symphony of hunger and passion. He silently swallowed and ran his fingers over his mouth, wiping away the slight sweat that had formed above his lips.
He only had to pick her house lock once. He had been rewarded by his expectation that, like most single women, she had a spare house key available. She also was so rarely in need of her spare, that she had not noticed it going missing for a day when he took it to be copied. She lived without any pets to get in his way, so it had been quite exhilarating the first time he watched her through a night. The position from the closet had been ideal for him to see everything she had done to herself. That was also the first night he found himself addicted to her true scent.
She had gone silent a while ago, but her deep breathing indicated that she had pleasured herself into a deep sleep. He was incredibly pleased at her perfect form this evening. She had left him in such a state of euphoria that only painting would make the rest of the night worthwhile. He silently rose to his feet and slipped through the shadows back to the main road heading into town. Yes, he would need to paint tonight; bright red on tender flesh. Someone’s last stare into the void. He owed her something special for the ways she awakened him, even when she could never fully understand.