Number Four

The Devil's Muse

"Stop moving."

"I'm not moving. People move, Henry, you'll just have to get used to it. How did you ever manage to sketch your spiders if moving is an issue?"

Henry looked at her over the top of his drawing paper, failing to suppress an amused smile and visually resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Bonnie chuckled, reclining back on the settee, her arm thrown up dramatically above her head. "...So, should I take my dress off, or is it not that kind of portrait?" The dress in question was elegant and moody, sepia-toned silk with dark lace trimming the the bodice and petticoated skirt. It was quite possibly her favourite dress so far.

"Behave, you." Henry play-scolded. "Else we'll never get anything done."

"Sounds good to me!" Bonnie chuckled.

Henry drew for a while, face an expression of concentration as he looked between his muse and the page. Then, after a while, shading with the side of his pencil, he spoke through the silence. "If you could change the world, how would it be?"

"Change the world?" That was a difficult one. Bonnie pursed her lips, tipping her head back against the cushions- then readjusted when she saw the look Henry shot her for changing pose. "... I don't know, really. I don't think I would change it much at all."

"There must be something. Everyone has something."

Bonnie chuckled. "Me, a mansion and an ungodly amount of money." She tilted her head. "I could maybe work up to certain scientists being boiled alive in oil."

His smile was razor-sharp behind the page. "Come on, I'm sure you're more creative than that."

Bonnie sat up. "To tell the truth? My life is pretty great as it is." She thought for a moment, introspective, eyes so very far away. She gestured vaguely in the air with her hands as if unsure how to illustrate this. "Life is... unpredictable; it's ever-changing and inconstant. It's all about... sensation and experiences, and impulse. Life is all laughter and colour, and sound; heat and tears, desires, wonder, passions, agony and whims. Every moment, every second is valuable- every being is fighting, crying out against the inevitable, the constant tick-tick of the clock; clinging with both hands against oblivion and l'appel du vide- the relentless pull of the void. Life is fast and thrilling, and about doing what makes you feel good. Life is short, and that's what makes it fun."

There was something voracious about Bonnie's smile. Lowering her hands, she suddenly realised how she was seated positioned herself back in her pose, pretending to act innocent of moving at all.

It was impossible to read Henry's expression. Instead, he chose to concentrate on his drawing.

"You, my darling, are a work of art." He said, softening after a moment. "Perhaps I should hang you on my wall for everyone to see." His eyes twinkled with the joke as he looked up at her. "Well, perhaps not everyone. I am rather selfish in that regard."

Bonnie frown in confusion, then gave a small smile. She watched the charcoal in his hand, shading dark, heavy strokes. "That's a lot of black for a portrait." She teased lightly, echoing his words from an earlier day.

"You have black hair." He flicked his eyes up to hers again. "Chiaroscuro. All light and shadows."

"Can I see?" Bonnie leapt to her feet without even a second's thought, crossing to him in two strides and reaching for the edge of the paper.

"It's not done." Henry pulled it away, out of reach. But for a moment, Bonnie could have sworn she glimpsed hands with long claws sketched onto the page.

A/N: It's done at last! Ngl, this chapter has been through the mincer the last week, so it's quite possible it's all over the place. Apologies about that- I just had so much to do suddenly! But the good news is things should hopefully be returning to normal after this.

Anyway, please leave a like and a comment! I've actually missed you all so much!