Chaennie Oneshots

My Art

Her frown transformed into a smile as Roseanne resumed playing the familiar melody on her flute. Jennie closed her eyes, picturing herself dancing with carefree joy on her own two feet, reminiscent of the old times when dancing brought her happiness.

Responding to an unseen connection, Roseanne smiled, as if she could sense Jennie's newfound happiness.

As the days unfolded, their conversations in the hospital garden became a ritual. Jennie's effervescent presence slowly chipped away at Roseanne's reserve.
Their connection deepened, growing like a delicate flower in the garden they shared. The rhythm of their conversations became a gentle cadence, each interaction revealing more about the intricate layers of their personalities.

~~~

Underneath the blossoming cherry tree, Jennie's infectious laughter echoed once more, breaking the tranquility of the hospital garden. "You know, Rosie, I once tried to grow tomatoes at home. Turns out, gardening is not my strong suit. I ended up with cherry tomatoes the size of grapes!"

Roseanne chuckled, the sound a rare melody in the serene surroundings. "At least you tried. I can't even imagine attempting something like that."

Jennie's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Well, we all have our talents. Yours might not be gardening, but I bet you have a secret skill up your sleeve. Care to share?"

A thoughtful smile played on Roseanne's lips. "I used to be an expert at capturing the essence of things through my art. Now, I'm rediscovering how to see without my eyes."

Jennie nodded appreciatively. "That's beautiful, Rosie. Maybe you can teach me how to 'see' in a different way. We'll create a whole new world together."

As they continued their stroll, a gentle breeze carried the fragrance of blooming flowers, prompting Jennie to inhale deeply. "Ah, the smell of nature. Don't you just love it, Rosie?"

"I miss it," Roseanne admitted, her voice a whisper. "The scent of paint, the earthiness of clay—I miss creating."

Jennie leaned closer, her voice a comforting whisper. "You're not alone, Rosie. We'll find a way to bring those scents back into your world."

Roseanne's face mirrored the beauty painted by Jennie's words. In that shared moment, a silent understanding bloomed, and the garden seemed to shimmer with the colors they conjured together.

Their conversations delved into the realm of dreams and aspirations. Jennie, ever the optimist, shared her hopes for the future, "I've always wanted to travel, Rosie. To feel the wind in my hair and discover new places. What about you?"

Roseanne's response was a thoughtful whisper, "I want to sculpt again. To shape something tangible and breathe life into it."

Jennie nodded, determination in her gaze. "Then, let's make it happen. Your hands may not see, but they can still create wonders."

~~~

In a subtle yet significant gesture, Jennie surprised Roseanne with an assortment of art supplies the next day. "Paint the garden, Rosie. Paint the colors you can feel," she encouraged.

And so, under the shade of the hospital garden's old oak tree, Roseanne dipped her brush into vibrant hues, allowing the strokes to flow freely. Jennie watched in awe as the once-silent canvas came alive with a kaleidoscope of emotions. "You see, Rosie, the darkness can't take away your ability to create beauty," Jennie whispered, her eyes reflecting admiration.