“Thank you for your time this evening, artists,” the young woman said, and then she turned to me with her hands clasped at her chest. “And a special thank you to our model.”
I nodded with a flush as a round of light applause filled the room, and then I beelined for Liam, rounding his station to see what he’d drawn before he could think to hide it.
My entire body froze when I saw it.
The girl he sketched couldn’t have possibly been me. Her eyes were strikingly beautiful, the kind that stare straight into your soul and see you for exactly who you are, no matter how you try to hide. He’d sketched my lashes long and dark, my nose perfectly symmetrical, and he’d even carefully drawn the mole above the left side of my mouth. My hair was thick and lush, cascading over one shoulder, and though I still wore my jacket over my dress, he’d sketched me in a spaghetti strap top that accented my collarbones, the deep V of it hinting at modest cleavage.
And then there was my hand.
The detail in which he’d captured each finger was incredible. From the fingernail of my pinky where it framed my chin, to the delicate bones of my wrist and the lines where my thumb bent — it was exquisite.
To top it all off, he hadn’t just sketched me sitting in a dimly lit house in Italy. He’d sketched me in a field of flowers, a dense forest behind me, wings spreading from my back, and a crown of thorns and flowers on my head as if I were a fairy queen.
“Do you like it?” he asked in a hushed voice.
I touched my lips with my cold fingertips, eyes still scanning the picture. When I first saw it, I couldn’t see myself at all. But now, all I could see was the most accurate depiction of me I’d ever witnessed — even more so than any photograph I’d ever been the focus of.
Tears welled in my eyes, but not because I was sad, or panicked, or ashamed.
Because for the first time in my entire life, I felt desirable.
I swallowed, blinking out of my daze before I met his dark eyes with mine. “I love it.”
The corner of his lips tugged up just a notch, and he reached forward, carefully ripping the page from the sketchbook and rolling it up before he tucked it inside his jacket.
“Come on,” he said as he stood. “On to the next adventure.”
The city of Florence pulsed on when we were inside that quiet, calm house, which threw me off when we made our way back toward the bridge and saw restaurants and bars still bustling. The busses had stopped running, so we’d been walking for quite a while, and I knew it was after midnight now, though I couldn’t be sure exactly what time. Still, the city was alive with laughter and music.
“Oh my God,” I said as we walked past one of the street vendors packing away her cart. “I’ve always wanted one of those. Is that weird?”
Liam smirked at the sight of the necklaces hanging from the top of the rack, each with a piece of rice inside. “So, get one.”
I shook my head. “Oh, she’s packing up, it’s ok—”
“Excuse me, miss?” Liam asked, bypassing me to greet the woman packing away her necklaces. He pointed at the ones still hanging. “May we?”
The woman smiled and nodded but continued putting things away as Liam waved me over to get a closer look.
“Who knew yes night would make us so obnoxious?” I murmured under my breath.
“If we were that much of a bother, she would have turned us away. Money is money, no matter what time of night. Now,” he said, reaching out to hold one of the necklaces between his fingertips. “Which one?”
The necklaces were simple — black cotton or silver chains, each with blown glass tubes filled with water and a solo piece of rice floating inside. Some were just plain tubes. Some were framed with a few beads on either side. And some had glass blown into different shapes and colors — everything from bright yellow smiley faces and yin and yang symbols, to roses and dolphins and more.
My eyes caught on one with a deep navy-blue mushroom head peppered with lime green spots, and I plucked it from the cart, holding it up with a grin at Liam.
He chuckled like my choice surprised him, and then he trailed his fingers along the line of necklaces until he found one with a smiley face almost like the one Nirvana used as their logo, with the exed-out eyes and tongue sticking out. It looked like a little kid’s sloppy attempt at copying it, which I almost loved more than the original.
Liam took the one I’d picked and handed both to the vendor, who smiled and scooted her seat up to a small folding table with a light, various bags of rice, and colored pens.