Work Text:
“Ready?” Summer walked up to the dining room table, arms piled high with paint, brushes, canvases, and more.
“I dunno.” Skeeter licked her lips. “I’ve never done this before. What if I mess up?”
Summer giggled. “You can’t mess up, silly! That’s the beauty of art! We’re just gonna create and experiment until something feels right.”
“Okay.” Skeeter shot her girlfriend a grin, heart fluttering. If there was a way to mess up in art, she would be the first to find it. Still, seeing Summer’s smile struck confidence into her heart.
Summer passed her a paintbrush and a palette of paint. “Here you go. Just… do what feels right, okay?”
Skeeter nodded. She dipped her brush in the paint and swirled a few strokes onto the canvas. Summer grabbed a palette of her own and got to work as well.
Skeeter stared at Summer as they worked. Her girlfriend was a marvel at the arts. No matter how ambitious her goal, she always managed to achieve it. Skeeter knew that Summer’s piece would turn out fantastic, and hers would pale in competition. But then again, as Summer always said, art wasn’t a competition.
Summer was stunning, as always. Skeeter frowned as she tried to capture the subtleties of her beak on the canvas. No matter how hard she tried, the lines came out wobbly and misshapen. Her brushwork was a disaster, a far cry from Skeeter’s fluid, clean lines. Skeeter had no clue how she did it.
“How’s it coming?” Skeeter asked as she put another dexterous dab of paint on her canvas.
“Uh…” Skeeter tilted her head. If she stood back a few feet, it might look a little better. “It’s… an acquired taste.”
“Acquired?”
“It’s… homely, okay? It has a nice personality!”
“Well, I’m sure it’s lovely,” Summer said. Her eyes sparkled. Skeeter rushed for her brush to capture the fleeting twinkle.
They worked in companionable silence for a while longer. After a bit, Skeeter managed to work out most of the flaws, or at least hide them behind a fresh coat of paint. It looked… somewhat like a penguin, she supposed.
She set down her brush and washed it. “I think I’m done.”
Summer lit up. “Great timing! I’m just about done, too—there.” After two tiny dots of white, she set her brush down. “Ready to show me?”
Skeeter gulped. “Um… don’t hate me, okay? I… I tried. I promise.”
“I know you did.” Summer smiled warmly, patting her arm. “I’m never gonna judge you for being new to art. You’re trying your best, and that’s what matters.”
“Okay.” Skeeter flushed. Summer always knew just what to say to set her heart fluttering. She shyly turned her easel around to face Summer.
Summer gasped. Her face lit up with a brilliant smile. “Wow! It’s incredible!”
“Shut up.” Skeeter looked away. “It’s not that good. I didn’t even get your beak right.”
“Well… it’s a little out of proportion, but the eyes? The eyes are gorgeous,” Summer said. “Wow, the variety of colors… it looks so beautiful.”
Skeeter licked her lips. “Really?”
“Really.” Summer smiled at her, eyes warm. “Ready to see mine?”
As she flipped her easel around, Skeeter gasped. That was her. It was her curly orange hair, her cat-eye glasses, her big nose. She looked beautiful. Was that how Summer saw her? Because if it was, it was wonderful.
“Summer,” she murmured, getting a little choked up. “It’s gorgeous.”
“You like it, then?”
“Like it? Of course I like it—I want to hang it on my wall! You did all that in the same amount of time I did mine? You’re incredible!”
Summer giggled. She walked to Skeeter’s side and put a hand on her knee. “It took a lot of practice. You can be this good too, if you just keep practicing.”
Skeeter’s face fell. “Gosh, I feel even worse about how bad mine looks. You made that incredible piece of artwork, and I just made…” She gestured at the painting, which looked like chicken scratch when compared to Summer’s. “That.”
“I think that is wonderful.” Summer leaned up and kissed Skeeter’s cheek. “Your very first drawing of me. It’s something I’ll treasure forever.”
Skeeter smiled shakily. Summer’s unending enthusiasm made her feel a little better. Maybe it wasn’t as good as Summer’s, but Summer liked it. That should count for something, right?
“You really like it?”
“I love it,” Summer said. “And I love you.”