--the chaotic lines. I didn't touch. No. Such things were not meant to be touched. Would not wish to mar such perfection. Instead my--

--fingers ghosted over the paint strokes as I tried to capture the essences of this brilliant bit of work. Hoping that there were others--

--like it.

Starter for @OneWickedSmile (Inspirational song: youtube.com/watch?v=Dy4HA3…) I was still at a loss at what to (cont) tl.gd/n_1sq48u1

[@OneWickedSmile] I was so enthralled with the painting that I almost didn't hear it. A voice that sounded like a sigh of a lover in the dark. Before all sense of civility was lost. I adored such a sound. My fingers were still ghosting over the--

[@OneWickedSmile] --brushstrokes. Trying to immerse myself in the dark violence that the painting was whispering it me. I wasn't being rude. Just trying to shift my focus. There were times that it was rather difficult. I so did love my art. Turning, my--

[@OneWickedSmile] --bright blue eyes focused on that lovely voice. I had to say that she was just as fascinating as the painting. She seemed to hold the promise of violent delights. The kind that was sweet on the tongue and flowing like blood through the--

[@OneWickedSmile] --fingers. I certainly hoped that she would keeps such promises. It would be rude not to do so. With a boyish smile, "Oh yes. Such things it inspires. It all but make my blood rush through my veins like fire." Raising my hand, I motion--