(really wanted to write, and I love women soooo-)

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The canvas stretched farther than her hands could reach, fingers passing over the primed cloth as her breath grew more labored. Something hurt. The thought vaguely formed in her pulsing mind as she glanced forward again. The brush gliding, smooth streaks beneath her hand, eyes losing focus, but never the sight of the figure before them. 

She was lucky her efforts got her to this point. She was too gorgeous to not be admired, a gem hidden away from her across the hall until she had the brilliant idea to lock herself out of the apartment in the middle of the night. But even in her bleary-eyed stupor, tired out of her mind and genuinely missing her contacts, she could tell that she was stupidly oblivious to the fact that she was living across from a silk-wrapped goddess.

Remembering it now, she couldn't believe how silly she must have looked gawking at her in her bleach stained tank top and fuzzy kitty shorts, just absolutely stunned by the fact that there was someone that looked like they walked right out a dream. It was more than a few seconds before she could manage to stutter out the fact that she was hoping to borrow a phone, to try to call a locksmith and hopefully have them open her door again. Goodness knows she wouldn't have let her in if they realized that they were planning on making their way up in the morning. She was quiet, most likely because of the strangeness that comes with meeting people at that hour of the night. But she wasn't mean, even offered her tea, the kind that takes effort to make as they watched the clock and waited.

As ten minutes turned to 20, then 30, another phone call, and another hour. Unfortunately, it came to her asking to crash on her tiny soft couch. 

Draped over the pedestal, bare breasts pushed against smooth marble, gorgeous brassy locks of hair falling over messily in silky ringlets, framing her soft features as the continued in their distant sleepy gaze. Looking far away, past the wall her bright eyes aimed at, half-cast in the bright morning light, as her mind wandered. 

Huff after huff, hot breath fanning across as her fingers smeared her guidelines. Smooth skin, wet paint, hot.... hot.... burning... but she wasn't going to pass up this chance because of this.

Flowers proved to be too strong for simply asking a question. Especially when just a few hours after fixing her little lockout problem, she showed right back up with a bouquet and a question, cleaned up, and trying to look her best and bright only her to see a door slammed shut the moment her blue eyes fell on them. It hadn't crossed her mind at the time, not in the way she realized it implied. How could someone that gorgeous find herself even considering a date with anyone less? 

It took many awkward exchanges, lots of chatting every chance their paths newly crossed, a few invites to her place for coffee, and later an invitation to hers with tea to have the chance to properly explain herself.

"I'm not a pervert I'm a painter."

She genuinely could have worded that better. But in hindsight, it did finally work.

When she finally accepted that coffee, she wished she didn't feel that painful twist in her heart at how awestruck she let her face become, so beautiful and gleaming in the streaming sunlight from her tall windows, paintings hung, leaning, pasted, mounted, on every wall. Those she wanted filled anyway. 

It took her too long to realize how quickly she was firing questions at her, too wrapped in her admiration.

"One painting, please, model for me. You truly can't see how you're perfect." 

She wished she could burn the image of her pink cheeks and flattered smile in her eyes forever. And now... she just couldn't pass up the chance to do it. As if Mnemosyne herself, beg her to capture her daughter in the only way she could.

Fever be damned.

She shifted along the pale surface, pulling her arm closer to herself. Her eyes gaining focus once again from looking at the wall, her baby blue's rolled away, glancing through the wide-open glass for a moment as the cityscape stretched before her. Growing tired of lying there, the cool marble growing warmer by the second. Discomfort suddenly swarming over her as her ears caught such heavy breath. 

"Eden?" She called out quietly. Watching her still for a moment from behind her easel, brown eyes glazed over, sweat glossing her skin, tinted red as her stained hands reached out to touch her cheek, as if just now realizing how terrible she felt.

"Al..Althea?" She called back softly. Holding back a giggle she realized, at how strange their names sounded together. But she couldn't deny, she liked it.

In the next moment, she found her eyes closing slowly, like a terrible movie effect as she watched the panic cross Althea's face. Opening them again to find herself in bed. Soft hands brushing her face as a wet cloth cooled where she touched. 

She called her name, suddenly unsure about the reality of the gesture she felt. Her voice shaking as she reached out, her hand being met with another, gently pushing it back as she continued. She was still topless. And it was difficult for her not to notice as her breath quickened.

"I didn't know you were sick." She continued quietly. The light was lower now, she must've been asleep for a few hours. She must've stayed for that long. "I would have made you soup before this fever spiked."

"I didn't.. want to reschedule..." Eden smiled softly, leaning into her touch, the cloth refreshed, cool, and absolutely divine against her hot cheek, her head a touch clearer now as her fever seemed to have eased. "I thought you'd never model for me again."

Althea smiled looking behind her at the unfinished canvas, one she had to upright after narrowly stopping Eden from going down with it. She would have called someone if she hadn't seen the cold medicine by the counter. Deciding to take matters into her own hands the way she knew how. Hospitals are expensive anyways. 

"You begged me not to leave." She whispered lightly. "Sleeping as I dribbled syrup in your mouth. You held onto me tightly, I didn't want you to be alone either. Not after all the trouble you went through to bring me here." She brushed a dark strand away from Eden's cheek.

Her cheeks deepened their red color, no longer from fever as she watched her swallow hard underneath her. "Althea..."

"Sorry for being so mean. Before." She leaned in closer hand shaking as she pulled the cloth away.

 "Don't be... I scared you didn't I?" Eden said quietly, watching her shake her head, lip quivering as she reached her hand out to run her thumb against it. Her mouth gently parting at the touch.

"I want to keep modeling... for you I-I mean..." She wondered suddenly if their hearts pounded in sync as they grew closer with each passing breath.

"I don't want to get you sick-"

"You won't." Althea whispered. Lips gently brushing over hers as Eden wound her thin fingers in her soft hair. Their kiss tasting like cherry syrup and tea.