Adam Jenkins (findingmiami) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2010-07-06 02:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | adam jenkins, polyhymnia, shiri eneas |
Who: Adam & Shiri
What: Beginnings
Where: In their house
When: Mid morning of June 29
Warnings: Minor fluff? None.
Shiri had parked herself on the couch after she had cooked breakfast for Adam. Placing the scrambled eggs in puff pastry on the table next to the mail that the mailman had left in the morning, she plopped herself down on the couch. She wasn't worried about his meal getting cold, it was designed to be eaten at room temperature. She didn't return to bed to snuggle with him lest she distract him from getting up and actually eating it.
So, she parked herself on the couch, pulled her snuggle on, crossed her arms and lightly dozed. He would be up soon. Soon. Napping would make soon become now. She wanted it to be now sooner without having to jump on the bed.
Without morning classes or other projects to make him get up in the morning, and still living off the schedule from working at the bar, Adam was not an early riser. He was better though since he wasn't typically staying up until 4, and could get himself out of bed before noon. So as he woke and stretched, he glanced to the clock and calculated what it actually meant. Shiri was clearly already up, but he'd be surprised if she wasn't.
Standing, he stretched once more before grabbing some quick clothes and heading out of the room. He went to the kitchen, per habit, and found the food and mail left there by his girlfriend. He picked through the mail, leaving most of it for now, and took the meal on a plate toward the living room. Spotting Shiri, he smirked, before moving to sit himself at the end of the couch as he continued to munch on the food.
Shiri felt something brush against her socked feet and instinct made her pull them in under the protective cloth of the snuggie. The movement however woke her from her dozing.
Now had become now.
She smiled, “You know, we have a table for a reason.”
He shrugged. "You weren't at it." And there was the coffee table just before them. He lifted his feet and rested them on top as if that had been the intended use.
Well, if one is sitting on a couch, that was pretty much its only good use. That and cup holder. Shifting, she moved completely and placed her back against his shoulder and kicked up her feet on the arm of the couch. “Can you still eat like this and not spill on me because I like it here...”
He changed hands, and took a moment to consider, then nodded. "You're fine." Lightly he placed a kiss on her forehead. Really, she spent enough time curled at his side, that if there was ever an art or competition in such a matter, he'd easily earn top marks. "I like what you did with the eggs."
“You learn some tricks when you are a woman living through centuries and I figured you must have been bored with normal eggs,” she murmured in a single breath and hence exhaling at the very end. She gave her body a stretch, pushing against him slightly before relaxing again, and resting her head along his shoulder. “I am glad you liked it. I will keep that in mind.”
"Thanks." He turned his attention back to the food, and being careful about falling puff. It wouldn't be nice to drop any into her hair just now. He continued to take bites of it until the piece was entirely gone, then dusted his fingers off on his shirt.
Quickly, in a fluid motion, she moved the plate from his lap, putting it on the coffee table and shifted again so she could rest her head along his lap, looking up at him. Ah, much better. Then she looked around. There were things. Where were the things... the mail... she remembered it with all the fun and different stamps.
There were things, but he hadn't been paying much attention to it. He hadn't exactly been overly awake either at the time. He never was when he first got up. So he simply played with Shiri's hair for a moment as it sprayed across his lap. "Do you have plans for today?"
“Not really,” she replied, pouting a little that he had bothered to put on a shirt. But her pout was short lived as she nuzzled into his hand, “Do you?”
He shook his head. "Not really." His free hand wandered to rest on her stomach, stroking it idly through all the clothe. Why did she always bundle up inside the house in the middle of summer?
Her eyes slipped shut at the feel of his hand and she promptly slipped her arms out of the snuggie and let it fall off the couch. She liked to be bundled up. She enjoyed wearing layers upon layers and being warm even when it was warm already but... she enjoyed his touch more. Now that he was here, separations of cloth had to go. Shiri took his hand and placed it along her skin under her blouse, “We could work on the murals or you could begin a new project since you finished your last.”
He slipped his hand onto her skin and lightly stoked, feeling her muscles and the calm shift as she breathed. "Working on something together sounds good." He smiled. "We still have a lot of rooms we haven't started on yet."
“Eventually we will have to do the ceiling...” Shiri opened her eyes again and reached up to brush her fingers along his cheek, “It will be important to have goggles.”
He blinked. He hadn't thought about that. "I guess. We'll probably have to see if we can set something up that we can lay on as well..."
“Our ceiling is not twenty meters high so I think we could probably just get normal scaffolding.” And goggles. Shiri knew from experience that goggles would be very important. “But we have walls left, many walls so that can be for later.”
He nodded. "Probably best. Which wall do you want to work on?" He started to try to recall what colors they currently had at hand, and if there were any plans that had been made for different parts of the house. Worse comes to worse though, they could always paint over something.
“We should paint the section between our bedroom door and your studio door. It looks so empty and lonely.” Shiri frowned a little, turned her gaze to the general direction of the particular wall even though she couldn't see it in reality. She could imagine it just the same. It did seem lonely and probably jealous of the painted walls....
"Alright." He tapped her shoulder for her to sit up. He could pick her up and carry her to the desired wall, but it was rather awkward to do so from their current angle. Not just because he was sitting, but because he only had good access to the upper half of her body.
Shiri sat up per his wordless instruction but she kept staring off down the hallway. That wall was probably not the only thing in the house lonely and jealous. Where did the mail go? She turned to him, “What happened to the mail? Did you open it?” Because if he did, then the mail wouldn't be jealous after all. It's life mission would be complete.
"It's in the kitchen still. I just glanced at it." Mail reading tended to be something saved for time of coherent thought and alertness, something Adam wasn't when he first woke up. Standing, he turned to scoop Shiri up in his arms, in preparation for taking her to the hallway.
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she clung to him as he carried her. “Bring me there first. It might be important Or fun.” She hid her face against his thought, “Like when I get that apology letter from CIS when they realized my passport photo was not in black and white.”
He chuckled at that, and did as she requested, carrying her into the kitchen and over to the table. There, though, he shifted to set her down so that her hands would be free for the mail. Once she was down, he headed toward the fridge in search of something to drink.
She grabbed the mail promptly, but didn't see any with her name on it. They were all for him, so she didn't open them immediately. Most of them looked like pre-approved credit card offers, which were ashame. They were always the most brightly colored mail but the quickest to be shredded. But one did catch her eye... One that didn't look like junk. She turned it over back and forth in her hands. “Can I open your mail?”
"Sure." Wasn't like there was anything that would come he didn't want her seeing. Mentally, he double checked if that was true. There weren't currently any gifts that were hiding, besides the normal honey sticks, so there wasn't anything really off limits. Grabbing a refilled bottle of water, he walked over to her at the table.
Then she was opening this letter from Gallery Diet, winner of the best gallery in Miami in 2009, without further delay. It didn't take long to read it and then laugh, “And so it begins.” Shiri slid it across the table to him, only to then get up from her chair and kiss him on the crown of his head. “You should read it.”
Her reaction caused him to raise an eyebrow, and shortly he was reading over the letter. "Oh." He read it again, then glanced up to Shiri with a smile. "Should we work on the wall, or getting my set together?" He took the letter in hand, with plans to carry it to his art room.
He could carry it there all he wanted it. It would disappear when he wasn't paying attention to it eventually. She had plans for it. As soon as she brought a scrapbook anyway. Everything was different with this letter... she could feel it. His other gallery outings had been like a runner stretching before a race. She had heard the race gun fired with this one. “Your set. The wall can wait. We have work to do for this.”
That was kind of what he'd been figuring. The letter was carried into his art room and clipped to a standing board. It was there so that he could refer back to it if there were any details he'd missed and also so that it wouldn't get lost. It held important information. Once it was clipped into place though, he turned to look back at his work space, and stopped. After a moment of being unsure exactly where to start, he looked to his muse. She wasn't the only one who was feeling the importance of this showing.
The muse was smiling, but there was an air of seriousness about her now, like she wore it around her like a jacket around her pleasant, good mood. She turned from him and began to move the separate parts of his latest project away from everything else, lining them up along a free wall. Half way through, she looked to him, “You are never going to be able to move these in your car, you know.”
"Not all at once..." Though he'd have to really clear out some space to make even a few work at a time. He ran a hand through his hair to consider, then shrugged. "I could probably get Alana's truck again. She let us use it to move before."
“That might be a better idea. Then they can lay flat.” How many times had she sat in the back of some mode of transport guarding the art as it was moved from place to place? She couldn't even count the number of times anymore. She finished lining them up and walked along them, giving them all a critical eye now. They may have been his art, but he was her art. Her success would show through through his. And so she paused, “You forgot to finish your outlining on this one figure, which is my fault as I distracted you from it and you never came back to it.”
Adam studied the painting for a moment, then searched out what he needed to finish making the outline. He'd have to move the piece itself to actually finish the outline, but that was a minor detail. He glanced up to look at Shiri, and see if there was anything else she'd spotted.
Nothing else was technically wrong with them, but that didn't stop the muse from analyzing them still just the same. Each piece led to the next while being itself independent, telling a short but complicated tale of the main subject and Adam had told her the story he was telling with his paintings... But something bothered her. The story was complete and yet... it, the images and the melody she heard echoing in her ears as she looked at them seemed... Then she smiled. She knew what was the matter. He had made the story too straightforward. Her artists always do in their beginnings but that's why she was there... Carefully, she moved a couple of panels and then dusted off her hands.
Better. Now it would be easier for an outsider to see beyond the literal meaning and justify it, while nothing really had changed at all. “There. Now people can debate.”
He watched her, knowing that he was seeing something he'd probably become more and more familiar with in the time to come, but still curious. As she seemed to settle on a display, he set aside the items he'd been gathering and came up to look at them over her shoulder. If she was satisfied... It was hard to see things other than what he'd painted. Probably the danger of staring at the same thing for so long. He arched an eyebrow at her words though. "Debate?"
Aww, adorable. She finally found an artist who didn't want to annoy people, humiliate someone or show someone up. Turning to him, Shiri looped her arms around his shoulders with a small smile, “Of course. Let everyone see something else in it and then argue with each other. More people will come to see simply to know what the argument is about.”
He didn't know if there was that much to debate about, but if that's how it should be.... Well, maybe his next group would have more debate. If his pieces went up without being part of a collection, there'd be more space for people to make things as they wanted there, but that seemed less likely the case here. So he just wrapped his arms around her in return and kissed her forehead. "You're the expert. Do you think this is the right collection for the gallery?"
There was a bit of playful mischievousness that flickered in her pink eyes at the question. A completely harmless kind. The kind that answered questions with questions, “Is this the best work you have produced so far that the public could see?”
He paused to seriously consider that question. It was the work he'd done most recently, and she'd put her touch on it more or less through him... Eventually he shrugged. "I think so."
“Then why would you ask if it is the right collection for the best gallery in Miami?” she murmured lightly against his throat as she lifted to her tip toes.
"Because you're the expert," he repeated, lowering his voice to speak it softly to her ear. She wanted him to trust her to know, he was trusting her to know. She was probably the reason the gallery wanted him, so freshly out of college, in the first place.
“I would not let it out of this house if I thought there was a problem with it being in the gallery.” She pulled away from him just a fraction of an inch just enough to stare him in the eyes. Even though she had to remain on her tip toes to do it, she managed to be completely serious, “When you sign your name, I sign mine.”
He met her eyes and gave a small nod, understanding her seriousness. But if she trusted him, then it was good. Good enough for the best gallery in Miami. That was a bit mind blowing. ... "I should finish that outline..."
Shiri dropped back to the flats of her feet giggling. Serious moment over. Back to being playful and mischievous. “You should. Meanwhile, I am going to tell your mother.” She nodded with a grin, “She should know, too.”
"Okay." He suspected that Shiri spoke with his mother more than he was actively aware of, but it made little difference. She probably was the better one to tell Kathy anyway, since Adam hadn't even thought of doing so. Releasing her, he ran a hand through his hair, and turned to set up the stand for the painting in order to do the outline.
It was better that Shiri be the one to tell Kathy because he wouldn't be able to. He had work to do. She was almost out of the door before she turned back around and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, with a small bit of inspiration to focus him. She couldn't have him messing up the outlining due to distraction, so distraction had to go.
But now she could go and call his mother. That sounded fun.
Summary: It's a typical Shiri/Adam morning in the house, while some good news delivered by mail. Odd, who bothers with mail anymore?