Miel snorted a bit as he heard Alex's want to paint on the countertop, but he was a bit relieved that they would be painting on a canvas. He did seem a bit disappointed in himself as he just assumed Alex painted on his countertop, but at least Alex wasn't mad about that. As Alex was talking about the two of them making a piece on the countertop together, he couldn't help but smile sheepishly and quietly nod. He grabbed a small canvas with an easel and raised an eyebrow at Alex's chosen colors. He didn't know if Alex went by emotion or not, but it was interesting to see the colors he chose. He didn't want to wait to see what kind of art he'll make.
For Miel, it was more abstract. He is a very logical guy, but abstract colors and fluid motions of the strokes are the best describers of emotions, rather than shapes.
He set up his easel and canvas on the counter island away from the kitchen. He set up his paints, picked a large brush, and took a deep breath. He hadn't done anything like this since that Pokemon Coordinator School a good 12 years ago.
He thought about the case, his torrent of emotions when he's around Alex, and the anxiety that was looming around him constantly. His second deep breath became shaky, as if those feelings of anxiety arose again and his fingers began to shake. Now was the time to paint. He was going to put his emotions on this canvas, which was the equivalent of wearing it on his sleeve. He never really put himself in such a vulnerable state, and his vulpine Pokemon, Alolan Ninetales, Vaporeon, and Glaceon, had sensed that. They laid down by the door leading outside and just watched him with worried curiosity. The other four Pokemon were playing or chatting with Alex's Pokemon outside.
Then he began to paint, his wrist holding the large paintbrush delicately as he began painting a series of blues and pinks in a nice harmonic fluid motion. It looked like water, with how the blues and pinks fused together in the middle, the green and purples accentuating the pinks and blues, and how the colors seemed to play with each other. And then he got the grey and black paint. He circled the entire thing in black, his strokes now not as fluid and more shaky than before. He filled out the corners and edges of the canvas with black and then clouded the edges of the blues and pinks with grey, which were shaped like sharp tendrils and spikes. Some even looked like lightning. There were grey lines trying to get in between the blues and pinks from the bottom and top, trying to separate them. The grey tendrils seem to be grabbing at the blues and pinks from the sides and trying to pull them apart.
He then grabbed more of the pastel pinks and blues and dotted them in the grey and black, as if the grey cloud had taken them away, but they are fighting to resurface. He then got the greens and purples and began making a small circle within the blues and pinks, as if it's the thing that was able to hold the blues and pinks together. It resembled a knot of some kind, but it seemed like it was frayed in the middle, like rope.
He then stopped painting and took his actual first look at his painting since he started. He felt indifferent about it. He at least got it out of his system and sighed in relief. That itch was gone. It seemed like his anxiety wasn't grating him like it was before, but he really needed to take his medicine. But he wanted to see how long he could go without it.
The pinks represented his emotions with Alex, the blue represented Miel and his positive emotions, the greens and purples represent the case and the marriage of blue and pink as well as the barrier between them. The thing that pulled the blues and pinks together but kept them separate enough to distinguish the two. The grey and black was his anxiety.
He set his paints down and took another deep breath as he just stared at his own abstract reflection of his emotions. He just... Couldn't keep his eyes off of it, as if he was sucked in to his own subconscious perception of himself. He also noticed the reddish pink was in the blue, making the color look more red. As if he was bleeding. That he didn't intend to do, but he knew he was a perpetually broken man who broke himself some when upset and when his anxiety attacks flared.
He almost felt embarrassed now that he created this abstract look at himself in front of Alex and didn't want to make eye contact with him as a deep red blush creeped up his cheeks. If he knew what the colors meant, he could probably tell what was happening inside of Miel. Which he could probably tell Miel had feelings for him with the pink. He then realized the man was also kind of pinkish-purple with the clothes he was wearing and his hair color. This can't seem to be a coincidence then for the colors he chose.
He just quietly stood there, a couple feet away from his painting as he stretched his arms up and set his hands behind his head and interlaced his fingers. He managed not to get paint on himself that entire time except for getting some on his fingers.
For Miel, it was more abstract. He is a very logical guy, but abstract colors and fluid motions of the strokes are the best describers of emotions, rather than shapes.
He set up his easel and canvas on the counter island away from the kitchen. He set up his paints, picked a large brush, and took a deep breath. He hadn't done anything like this since that Pokemon Coordinator School a good 12 years ago.
He thought about the case, his torrent of emotions when he's around Alex, and the anxiety that was looming around him constantly. His second deep breath became shaky, as if those feelings of anxiety arose again and his fingers began to shake. Now was the time to paint. He was going to put his emotions on this canvas, which was the equivalent of wearing it on his sleeve. He never really put himself in such a vulnerable state, and his vulpine Pokemon, Alolan Ninetales, Vaporeon, and Glaceon, had sensed that. They laid down by the door leading outside and just watched him with worried curiosity. The other four Pokemon were playing or chatting with Alex's Pokemon outside.
Then he began to paint, his wrist holding the large paintbrush delicately as he began painting a series of blues and pinks in a nice harmonic fluid motion. It looked like water, with how the blues and pinks fused together in the middle, the green and purples accentuating the pinks and blues, and how the colors seemed to play with each other. And then he got the grey and black paint. He circled the entire thing in black, his strokes now not as fluid and more shaky than before. He filled out the corners and edges of the canvas with black and then clouded the edges of the blues and pinks with grey, which were shaped like sharp tendrils and spikes. Some even looked like lightning. There were grey lines trying to get in between the blues and pinks from the bottom and top, trying to separate them. The grey tendrils seem to be grabbing at the blues and pinks from the sides and trying to pull them apart.
He then grabbed more of the pastel pinks and blues and dotted them in the grey and black, as if the grey cloud had taken them away, but they are fighting to resurface. He then got the greens and purples and began making a small circle within the blues and pinks, as if it's the thing that was able to hold the blues and pinks together. It resembled a knot of some kind, but it seemed like it was frayed in the middle, like rope.
He then stopped painting and took his actual first look at his painting since he started. He felt indifferent about it. He at least got it out of his system and sighed in relief. That itch was gone. It seemed like his anxiety wasn't grating him like it was before, but he really needed to take his medicine. But he wanted to see how long he could go without it.
The pinks represented his emotions with Alex, the blue represented Miel and his positive emotions, the greens and purples represent the case and the marriage of blue and pink as well as the barrier between them. The thing that pulled the blues and pinks together but kept them separate enough to distinguish the two. The grey and black was his anxiety.
He set his paints down and took another deep breath as he just stared at his own abstract reflection of his emotions. He just... Couldn't keep his eyes off of it, as if he was sucked in to his own subconscious perception of himself. He also noticed the reddish pink was in the blue, making the color look more red. As if he was bleeding. That he didn't intend to do, but he knew he was a perpetually broken man who broke himself some when upset and when his anxiety attacks flared.
He almost felt embarrassed now that he created this abstract look at himself in front of Alex and didn't want to make eye contact with him as a deep red blush creeped up his cheeks. If he knew what the colors meant, he could probably tell what was happening inside of Miel. Which he could probably tell Miel had feelings for him with the pink. He then realized the man was also kind of pinkish-purple with the clothes he was wearing and his hair color. This can't seem to be a coincidence then for the colors he chose.
He just quietly stood there, a couple feet away from his painting as he stretched his arms up and set his hands behind his head and interlaced his fingers. He managed not to get paint on himself that entire time except for getting some on his fingers.
