Portrait of a Girl
by Erin

Grace didn't tell him, but she liked Adam's drawings. On bad days they were dark, papers full of biomechanics on tattooed bodies, mechanical dragons, and Joan of Arcs fighting against whatever had made him hurt today. On other days, she would catch glimpses of her face and her posture sketched in as fine a detail as the sketches of Joan and her beauty. Her bravery.

Today he etched wings from out of her while they perched on a ledge clearly in New York - they were like superheroes. In his work she feels like there's hope for her. That there's more than the endless wreck her life had become.

Grace imagined herself with tattooed wings, black feathers that made her beautiful and loved. Inwardly she wondered if Adam would ever draw wings on his sketches of her. If he'd ever get deep enough into her head to see the hurt little girl screaming inside.

"I wish I had wings." She muttered, her place outside under the tree growing cold.

Adam shook his head, still drawing as he lay out on the grass. "You do... they're just very small. They'll get bigger…” he stopped sketching for a moment as if to listen to something, before returning to his art. "When you open up."

Before she could ask what he meant, a familiar voice interrupted her train of thought. "Hey guys, you want to come over tonight and rent movies? Everyone except my mom'll be out, so we were just going to order pizza and watch flicks."

Adam didn't even think about it, she wagered. "Can we get Matrix Reloaded?" He hopped up from the grass, stuffing his notebook quickly into his bag without missing a beat. "Or have you seen it yet?"

Grace took her time getting up; she didn't want to seem too eager. "As long as you don't get a bunch of sappy romantic movies, I'm in."

She loved how Joan's smile could light up the world...

End.

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