A few hours later
Shonee's POV
When I returned, it was a few minutes past three, meaning it was time for Mirasol's dance classes.
Carrying a brown paper bag filled with art supplies, I walked into the living room, expecting to hear the mellow sounds of waltz or ballet music, but all my ears met were the soft tunes of a violin. Since the sliding doors were open, I passed through and found Mirasol on the patio, playing her violin.
As if she had sensed my presence, she paused and turned to me, her usual blank expression on her face.
"Hey, Mirasol." I walked closer. "Where's your dance teacher?"
"Didn't make it," she mumbled, then lifted the violin to start playing again, but I put a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to stop.
"I have something for you!" I put the bag in front of her. "Ta-daa!"
Mirasol looked at the content with scepticism. "What is that?"
"Art supplies. It's everything you need to draw stuff." I picked up the bag and walked over to the patio table. "See, you've got some colour pencils, crayons, paint, several sketchpads-"
"I don't want to draw," She cut in.
"Are you sure? You haven't even tried it yet."
"I won't. Drawing is for babies!"
"What?" I gaped at her in awe. "No, it's not. Drawing is art. It's another way to have fun."
"I don't want to have fun!" She yelled. "I just want to play my violin!"
"Ok, if you say so." I turned back to the supplies and proceeded to empty the bag. I anticipated something like this when I was returning home, and that's why I came up with a plan to help her get out of that hostile zone. If she saw what I was capable of with art, maybe her interest would be piqued.
Settling down on one of the patio chairs with a sketchpad and a pencil, I began to draw the little girl's outline, starting with her profile. She stood straight, cradling her violin and bow, bringing the notes on the music stand to life. Even though it was just her side, I took the time to sketch her pigtails, because let's face it: she wouldn't be Mirasol without them. I watched her arms carefully; how they curved and held the instrument. Since I hadn't done this in a while, I was a bit rusty compared to my college days, but the drawing wasn't so bad.
I was halfway through the sketch when Mirasol stopped playing her violin and turned to me, eyes narrowed to slits. Averting my gaze, I continued to sketch. I didn't want her to know that she was the one I was drawing.
After a minute or two, she returned to her instrument, but it wasn't long before she turned again. "I know you're watching me."
I just chuckled and continued my sketch, lifting my eyes every once in a while, to catch a glimpse of her posture. But then, our eyes met and I cursed under my breath because she stopped everything and ran to me, snatching the sketchbook from my hand.
She turned it over, drinking in the content.
The sketch wasn't complete. The music stand was missing, but I had finished drawing Mirasol and half of the flowers in the background.
"It's me," she mumbled.
"Yeah, you like it?" I asked and Mirasol slowly nodded, then hesitated before asking.
"Can I colour it?"
"Of course." I smiled. "I've got some colour pencils right here." Taking out the pack, I pushed it in Mirasol's direction as she climbed onto one of the patio chairs. She leaned against the table, immediately getting to work by pulling out a purple-coloured pencil.
"You're giving yourself purple hair?"
"Yes," She grinned. "I've always wanted purple hair."
"Really, that's cool."
"Yes, but Daddy says it's weird for little girls to have purple hair." She admitted.
"Well, Daddy's not around now." I scooted closer in my seat. "What do you think about getting purple hair tomorrow?"
"Really?"
"Yeah! I can buy all the stuff we need and get it done for you."
"Yes, let's do it!"
"Ok!" I laughed at how eager she was.
She finished colouring the sketch and held it up to show me. "What do you think?"
"It's awesome! You're really good at this, Mirasol."
The little girl giggled as a response, and it made me smile. This was the first time I'd heard her laugh and it was so cute. She should do that more often.
"Draw more things so I can colour!"
"Ok, but it's going to take some time. So, while you wait, why don't you work on this." I pulled out a book. "I know how much you love music, so I got you an instrument colouring book. It has all the instruments in the world inside it, even your violin."
"I want to colour that first!" Grabbing the book, Mirasol got to work, pulling out more coloured pencils from the pack.
The hours blurred by, and Mirasol and I spent most of it lost in the world of art. We didn't even notice night had fallen until Gerta walked into the patio with a movable serving tray. "Dinner is ready."
"Oh, Gerta." I stood up. "You didn't have to bring dinner out here; you could've just called us inside."
"And ruin your good time, no," Gerta chuckled. "Besides, Avril and Vincent sent in word that they won't be around for dinner so there's no point setting that large table."
"Gerta! Look at what I coloured!" Mirasol held up her colouring book. "It's your favourite instrument, the piano!"
"Oh, it is, and I love what you've done with it, especially the green keys," the elderly woman cheered. "You're really creative, Mirasol."
"Thank you!" She shrugged with a bright smile and Gerta turned to me, amazement covering every inch of her face.
"I don't think I've ever seen her smile this wide before, good job, Shonee." She gave me a soft pat on the back.
"All in a day's work," I grinned.
"I don't know what you did, but keep it up, cuz I never want to see gloomy Mirasol ever again."
A laugh burst past my lips as Gerta moved over to set dinner up for us.
Mirasol and I spent the right of time enjoying the meal and immersing ourselves in the wonderful world of art.