They arrived back at the department studio, and Helena followed Dami inside, unsure of what to expect.
"Grab any paint you can find," Dami instructed as they passed by the supply closet.
Helena looked at her, confused. "Why?"
"Just trust me," Dami said with a wink.
They carried the paints to the studio and stopped in front of Dami's blank canvas.
"You can set them down here," Dami said, pointing to a table nearby. Then, turning to Helena, she stepped closer and kissed her—deeply, but briefly. "I've been needing to do that," she said, her voice low.
Helena blinked, trying to reconstruct her thoughts. "Me too," she whispered.
Without saying more, Dami handed Helena an apron.
"Take a brush," Dami said.
Helena frowned. "I can't paint."
"That's the point."
After some hesitation, Helena dipped the brush into a random color and swiped it across the canvas.
"Again," Dami encouraged.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Do it."
Helena dipped the brush again and added another streak. Dami followed, adding a stroke of her own, then another. Slowly, the two of them began layering color after color, working together in no particular pattern or order.
Eventually, they ditched the brushes and started using their hands, smearing paint across the canvas with abandon. Their laughter echoed through the room as they splattered colors everywhere—on the canvas, on each other, on the floor.
When they finally stepped back, they stared at the chaotic masterpiece they'd created.
"It's a mess" Helena said softly.
"Yup," Dami agreed, smiling.
They spent the next hour cleaning up. Dami handed Helena a clean outfit from her bag of spare clothes and offered to have her paint-stained clothes dry-cleaned. Helena agreed.
"All that painting has made me hungry," Dami said as they headed back to the car.
"Me too," Helena replied.
"We can order takeout to my apartment."
Helena thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."
Dami's single-bedroom apartment was cozy, with art scattered everywhere—some completed, some still in progress. As they ate, Helena wandered the space, taking it all in. She soon realized that Dami had calm colours, it was everywhere from her couch to the cabinets and tables. Other than the art works in every Conner the space was pretty tidy.
"Your house is beautiful," Helena commented, then added, "my mum would never let me stay off campus,"
"Why?" Dami asked.
"She believes it's not safe." Turning her attention back to the paintings she asked, "What's your favorite thing to paint?"
Dami thought for a moment. "I enjoy the process more than the final picture. But if I had to choose, I'd say people. I love painting people."
"When did you decide to become an artist?"
Dami smiled. "We're all artists in a way."
"That is such an artist thing to say," Helena jokedand they both laughed.
" it was when I was six. My mom had this program, and I went with her. I wandered into an art studio, and my mom found me staring at a painting. She said she could see it in my face—I'd found my calling."
"What about you? When did you decide to become a doctor?"
"My dad is a doctor, a surgeon, and I've always been fascinated by biology," Helena replied.
"So it's not because society says medicine, law, and engineering are the only acceptable professions?" Dami joked.
Helena laughed. "Well, maybe that too."
They laughed together, but eventually, it was time for Helena to return to her hostel.
"You can stay," Dami suggested.
Helena smiled. "I have class early tomorrow, and I don't have any clothes here. Next time, I'll be more prepared."
Dami's heart lifted at the words next time.
Dami drove Helena back to her hostel, waiting until she was safely inside before driving off. As she headed home, only one thought occupied her mind: she was falling for her. Fast. And hard. And it scared her.