A Tide That Pulls More Than Just Us

Who: Angelo and Shoshannah
When: Jan. 21, early evening through the night.
Where: Nighthawk's, then Angelo's apartment.

There was really only one way for Shoshannah to describe her morning. A whirlwind. From the fight she'd had with her parents, to not having enough money for a hotel room at the Drake, to not needing any money for a hotel room at the Drake, to Ian's requests for her to come to him if she needed anything...It was all a bit too much for her. She was thankful for the bed and the sleep she fell into, letting it clear and recharge her mind as much as possible. Ian seemed genuine and sweet, kind and helpful. He made her blush when she didn't expect it and stuck up for her when Dolores, that rude clerk, decided she wasn't worth a hotel room here.

When she woke up hours later, Shoshannah had the peace of mind to come to a couple conclusions. First, Ian was a nice, trustworthy friend that she could count on. He'd even offered to have security keep an eye out on things for her, not that she thought there was much to keep an eye out for. She felt safe here, which was a far cry from how frazzled and angry she'd felt earlier that morning.

The idea of the lunch he promised beckoned, but Shoshannah knew that she would be keeping him from his job as much as she assured her she wouldn't be. So she took a quick bath, ridding herself of the awful sense of that morning and the clothes she'd been too tired to change out of last night. Thankful that she'd brought an extra change of clothes, Shoshannah dressed in the plain navy dress. The shape was akin to her black one from the previous day, but she blamed that on a total lack of fashion trends and doubted anyone would really notice or mind.

She found herself sitting on the bed large enough for at least two people, a torn piece of napkin in her hand. He'd said just to call him anytime and Shoshannah had a feeling that if anyone could understand, it would be Angelo. He was so understanding at the Once More Round the previous night that she doubted he'd judge her for this change in plans. Besides, she'd brought her photos here and she couldn't kid herself that she'd brought them with her only to show Angelo.

There was a slight nervousness that sprung up in her as she dialed the number and listened to the rings echo through the line, but she passed it off as just a side-effect of the very odd day she was already having and instead, listened for a voice on the other end.

In a far contrast to the opulence of her room at the Drake, a handful of miles across town, Angelo turned in the squat two-room space of his apartment as the phone shrieked on it's hanger. He'd only been home for maybe ten minutes now, and was still going through the motions of hanging up the white suit he wore for gigs at the Kitten as he waited for a kettle to heat up on the stove behind him, but if someone was calling at this hour? He was betting it would be for a good reason. Maybe it was Sang-min with a line on a cheap supplier, maybe one of his boys from the Seraphim with another gig. Maybe it was Shoshannah.

She'd been on his mind that day, to be sure, in the way that fresh inspiration left an imprint on the burgeoning artist's mind. He'd done a partial painting incorporating the rough sketch from the night before, had drawn another pair of canvases tight on frames in the hopes of more inspiration, and then had sadly needed to tuck his pipe and paints away for work. Hoping he'd have a chance to get the pipe back out before bed, Angelo moved from his hangers to the phone, slinging it up to his ear lazily. "Thrill me," he greeted abruptly, grinning with the sparse introduction.

Well, that was certainly the most interesting way she'd ever heard someone answer a phone. Her laugh traveled the line to his ear before she could even introduce herself properly. "Angelo, hi! It's me...It's Shoshannah." She added, mentally smacking herself. It's me? "From last night," She added, just in case he needed remembering. "Do you answer all your phone calls that way?" Already a smile was on her face, Shoshannah kept talking. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to take me up on that lunch offer? Well, I guess now it'd be closer to dinner, but I did bring my photos if you wanted to see them."

"The dreamer," he confirmed when she reminded him, "As if I'd forget. S'good to hear your voice, Sho." Not a bit of the sentiment was forced, flowing warm and easy from Angelo as he leaned against a wall, cradling the phone between ear and shoulder. "An' I'm thinkin' you'd have to call me again if you wanted to find out," Angelo teased, chuckling throatily, "'Course, that'd be time slippin' away turnin' the rotary jus' to listen to my fool self pick up." Lunch? Dinner? Glancing at his clock, Angelo frowned slightly as he considered his funds; a resupply from Sang-min had set him back, so had the impulse to pay for Shannah's taxi so that he could wake her easier. Always a few cents to round up, he decided, figuring he'd keep to a sparse meal. "No maybes to it," he answered eventually, "Not even if it's closer to breakfast round now. You know where the Hawk is?" Everyone in the city seemed to know where Nighthawk's was, but it never hurt to be sure. "Big 'ol tables there that'll let me look at all your shots at once, bottomless coffee, damn fine pies..."

Shoshannah had never been called 'The dreamer' or 'Sho' but she found that she quite liked both terms. Her smile widened a bit as she listened to Angelo, noticing that his voice seemed a bit more far off than it did last night. She didn't mind. Maybe it was just the phone? "Then I'll just have to call you again sometime," She promised. "Sure, I know where it is, if you mean the NightHawk. But remember, it's my turn to pay." Luckily she hadn't had to use the rest of her money on the hotel room here, so she had enough to pay for their dinner. She'd just make sure to walk there instead of take a taxi. "And you promised me I could see your paintings too." Maybe she was asking for too much. She didn't know about his schedule, if he had to work, if he didn't, or if he just had changed his mind about sharing his paintings with her. "I'll head to the diner now, then?"

Another throaty laugh spilled out as Shoshannah reminded him of her promise to pay; Angelo had forgotten it somewhere in the light-blue haze of his last high, somewhere between streaks of color on canvas. "The gallery's open f'you," he assured her, glancing to the stack of paintings that sat in a row alongside his sofa where most people would have an end table. "And you sure you're good to walk?" Angelo asked as a note of concern bled into his voice, "Streets ain't the safest place for any of us when the sun sneaks off." Himself included, given his own passive nature. But it never kept Angelo from worrying.

It was almost ridiculous how anxious she was to get to the NightHawk. With the promise of food, friendship, and art in her future, why wouldn't she be? "I should be fine to walk...as long as I can figure out how to get there from the Drake. Any ideas?" She leaned across the bed, phone nestled in the crook of her ear, and managed to grab the straps of her purse with her fingertips. Searching through it to count how much money she had, she weighed the amount. "I might have enough for a cab..."

"The Drake?" Angelo echoed, frowning in consideration. He wasn't good with directions, no way about it. Too often, he found himself getting lost in tangents of thought or snippets of imagined music, and his feet usually got him where he was going. Still, he knew the main drags with the familiarity of a lifetime spent in the city, he could do this. "Swing a left when you get outside an'..." his lips pursed thinly before he remembered, snapping his fingers and smiling. The time was perfect, the old memory of a painting he'd done flashed back to confirm his hunch. "Walk a block, then look for a sea of taxis. Follow the flow, Sho," Angelo said with a laugh at himself, "S'shift change, so the cabbies normally huddle up for a cup down there. I'll keep an eye out for you."

She laughed again, something light, and nodded to herself as she repeated his directions in her mind. "I'll be there as soon as I can. It doesn't sound like it's too far away. So I'll see you soon! Bye for now, Angelo." She hung up the phone gently, hurried to her pumps and slipped them on, then grabbed her entire big bag of provisions and headed out to the lobby.

Once outside, the doorman kindly offered her his umbrella, assuring her he could get a spare from inside so that she would take it. Thanking the man, Shoshannah headed through the streets, chanting Angelo's directions in her head like a mantra. She couldn't pay attention to the people around her even if she wanted to, she was just too focused on not getting lost.

Swing a left. Done. Walk a block, done. Find the taxis. She squinted through the rain and the dim lights of street lamps until she found what could only be described as a veritable ocean of taxi cabs. Pleased with herself, Shoshannah's step quickened, her eyes turned from the street to the businesses in search of the diner she'd only been to once previously. It didn't take her long to find the NightHawk after that, or for her to realize that the place looked packed. Was it always this busy? It'd been just as busy when she was here with Cheyenne the day before.

Closing the borrowed umbrella outside, Shoshannah made quick steps to the door, leaning out of it for a moment to shake the excess rain off the umbrella. She stood to the side, scanning a diner full of people for the only person she wanted to see. "...Maybe he's not here yet...."

He wasn't there yet, Shoshannah was right. Angelo's apartment was farther from Nighthawk's than the Drake, and with a fresh umbrella tented over his head, he'd slowed his pace without even realizing it. The stacatto of rainfall on the umbrella was mesmerizing, and as he walked he gave it slow twists, watching the puddles jump with the excess drops and smiling. Eventually though, the wash of taxi dome lights broke through Angelo's reverie, drawing is eyes into them and beyond, to the wide windows of the diner.

"Always a fan of the detour," Angelo murmured to himself, snapping his umbrella closed before breezing into the diner. The sea of people could've been overwhelming if he'd tried to take it all in, but luckily for him, Shoshannah's anxious form lingering to one side was a perfect focus. "C'mon," Angelo murmured over her shoulder as he spotted her, bypassing a traditional greeting entirely, "Could say I'm friends with the m'aitre de." He gave a little bump of his arm against Shoshannah's before stepping into the whirlwind of people, seemingly confident about where he was going.

Shoshannah was lost, adrift in the sea of too many people and too much noise. She was beginning to wonder if she'd ever find Angelo, because she had thought for some reason it would take him less time to get to the diner than her. Shoshannah was just about to turn when she heard the same familiar voice beside her and felt a gentle bump of his elbow against hers, and she wasn't lost anymore because Angelo was her life-boat. Her hand held onto his arm, gentle but firm enough to keep them together as they worked their way through the crowd. She ignored the angry looks other customers were sending their way, focusing instead on not weighing Angelo down. "Are you sure there's even a table free?"

At this time of night, the changeover was constant as one set of diners would slip away to make room for another, and every seat at the counter was contested ground among the rows of cabbies. To Angelo, they were faceless people, obstacles like one might face if they were breezing through woodlands. "There's about to be," he murmured, nodding towards a window-facing booth and the people sliding out of it. Angelo stepped lightly around them, moving to intercept the waitress as she pocketed the tip left on the table.

"Clara, doll," he greeted with a scandalous grin, "I ain't here for a coffee marathon this time. Help a fella an' his friend out?" The grin didn't waver as Angelo waited, his eyes squinting as he watched the waitress lose to her own smile and wave them into the booth. Angelo stayed where he was for a moment, acting as an anchoring point as he extended his arm to guide Shoshannah past the foot traffic to her seat.

Shoshannah studied Clara and found that it was hard for others to win against Angelo's smile as well. She watched the woman head toward the booth, but took her time to readjust her hand on Angelo's arm since it had been slipping. "Thanks," She smiled at him as he led the way and soon she was slipping into the booth, pushing a bag almost larger than her to the inside of her side. She took the menu from Clara, thanked her, then turned her attention back to Angelo. "Well, I feel pretty special. It's not every day I get to jump an entire line of people in a restaurant."

He could've pointed out that around here it was a 'first come, first serve' basis, but why would he? She said she felt special, and the impression Angelo got was that Shoshannah didn't get that feeling often enough. If he could deliver it? Chance worth takin', Angelo mused as he slid his menu over, smiling faintly at the bag getting adjusted across from him. "Clara an' I know each other from when we was both small," Angelo explained with a grin, "Some days she gets me an extra side of pie." He didn't even bother opening his meu, knowing what he was going to order already, and instead leaned his elbows on the table to grin Shoshannah's way. "Gotta admit, I'm feelin' a touch special too," he confessed, "S'not every day a fella gets a private photo view."

Shoshannah's smile was there, but it twitched a little. She tried to not let the thought get the better of her, but she was a little jealous Angelo had known Clara so long. She thought back to an idea of whom she would have known for that long, but only her family came up. But now was not the time for thoughts like those.

"That's really nice of her. An extra slice of pie goes a long way," She caught his eye again and her smile was more genuine after that. Happier. Why should she bother about the lack of friends she had when she was little when she was sitting across from a good one right now? There was a feeling she couldn't shake, though, and it was nervousness as she reached for her bag. She pulled out a scrapbook that was filled to the brim, the covers fanned out slightly to accommodate the amount of photographs in it. She pushed it toward Angelo, the nervousness coming across in her voice even if she tried to hide it. "I know it's not the most professional way to keep them..."But it wasn't really the container she was nervous about. What if he didn't like them? She'd never cared if other people liked her photographs before, but for some reason she felt that if Angelo didn't like them, then she was doing something wrong.

Angelo slid the book the rest of the way, shaking his head at Shoshannah and seeming like he was about to speak, but pausing as their waitress appeared. "Coffee for the both of us," he ordered, "Gotta ward off a chill." He didn't get how Shannah's condition worked, but to his mind, caffeine was a potential antidote. And if she'd stomached the seldom-ordered coffee from the Round? She could handle this. He felt a bit presumptuous for having ordered for her, but Angelo rarely spent time second-guessing himself. He made a move and he stuck with it.

Like now, as he waited for their waitress to leave and began to run his hands around the edges of Shannah's photo album thoughtfully. He was a tactile person, Shannah knew it by now, but it was clear again as Angelo's fingers danced along the pages, feeling for where the photo inserts ended. Silently, he mused on how it could be seen as an end, or perhaps a beginning if this was her first real foray into the world. "An' no apologies, 'member?" Angelo eventually teased, "You do what you do, no doubtin' it. 'Sides which, you're talkin' to a man who stacks paintings like most folk stack records," he added, winking to her before easing the cover open to start studying the pictures.

Angelo was doing his best to make her feel less nervous, she knew that, and it helped a great deal more than she imagined it would but it didn't alleviate the symptom entirely. She tried to let the sense of relief his words gave her wash over her again. "Right. No doubting it." She repeated, a laugh tacked onto the end of it at the mention of his paintings. "Don't you ever get nervous showing off your paintings to people?" Shoshannah was always nervous about it. Most of the time it just provided another medium within which people could pass judgment on her, but she knew Angelo was different. Constructive criticism was something she had yet to learn.

The first page only housed two photos: a pristine depiction of the outside of The Alexandrian Library, then another crisp, clean, nearly staged photo of the view of the street from the library's stairs. It was nostalgic, one of the first pictures she'd taken, but it didn't fuel something in her. She knew it was good, recommended, that a photographer have the skills needed for this picture up her sleeves, but still...She found herself comparing it to Angelo's two jobs. This first section was like her Kitten Club. Too clean, too forced. He'd have to find his way to the One More Round in the back of her book, but there were still many more pictures in there that didn't feed Shoshannah's soul like they used to.

"Can't say there's much call to show my work," Angelo murmured, eyes intent on the shots of the library, narrowed slightly as he pursed his lips in consideration. "S'not really a high-demand job for me, you know? Jus' somethin' I do for myself an' the two folks who care." He didn't expect his art to ever be viable; he'd sold a whopping one painting a year for the last several years, a trend Angelo didn't expect to break any time soon. His painting was too abstract, and while it was evocative? It went over enough peoples' heads that he figured obscurity was his future.

He laughed quietly, nodding thanks as their coffees arrived and blowing a few curls of steam from his mug before sipping it carefully. "Good ol' Alexandrian," he murmured, ticking his eyes up from the page to Shoshannah for a warm look, then back down to the page. "Had myself a handful of nights where I slept 'round there. Wish someone in this town'd get 'round to fixin' her up, she deserves it jus' for givin' me shelter when I needed it." That said, he grinned down at the table as the pages were flipped carefully. This was... this was just nice. He was warm, dry, curious... his wits were sparked by the exposure to someone who saw the world close to his own view, who wanted to express herself in captured moments like these.

Shoshannah took the cup, thankful he'd ordered for her. To be honest, this place and its menu was still too overwhelming for her. She let it warm her fingers, not taking a sip yet. She'd fill it with cream and sugar when she could pry her hands away from the warmth. The fact that Angelo's art wasn't something the public seemed to like bothered her. He was such a talented artist in other ways, how could they not enjoy his visual art just as much? "..The whole world's missing out," She said with a slight grin, eyes glinting at him. Yes, she'd left out an obscenity, but she enjoyed getting the opportunity to use his words, since her own, on a whole, were much less moving.

She was adding sugar to her coffee when he spoke again, and her face fell. He stayed at the library? What did that mean? That he hadn't had a place to go home to, that was for sure. Even now, as Shoshannah and her parents were fighting, she still knew that she could go back to the house any time. Sure, they'd fight more, but she still had a place to go to if she wanted. She regarded Angelo with eyes mirroring her own internal sadness, but yet again was unable to find the words to express how sorry she was that he'd gone through that. "...They should fix it up. If I knew anything about construction, I'd do it..but I think I might make the library fall to pieces instead of helping it out." She had to try, though. "Angelo...I'm sorry you had to stay there..." It was an odd feeling, apologizing for something that happened in the past, so she took a too-large sip of her coffee and swallowed it just as quickly, cringing at the heat still emanating from the mug.

Shannah had gotten a smile from Angelo when she used his words against him, and for everything else she was saying? The condolences and wish that she could mend the damaged building? The smile never budged. He was always heartened to hear people doing something as smiple as wishing, and whatever hard times Angelo had seen were endured because he'd done just that. He'd wished for better ones, he'd held onto personal faith and dreams, and he'd survived. Sure, he was still broke and living in a tiny apartment, spending his life on pursuits that would never pan out financially, but it made him happy.

"S'alright, Shoshannah," he told her, looking up from her book of photos and nodding with the words, "I had some rough times growin' up, yeah? But I saw 'em through, never gave up on what I wanted. Sometimes I wonder who I might be if I'd had it easier, if I'd like that guy or he'd like me, you know? Doesn't do much good to think on though, cuz what I got... s'just about all I want." He chuckled quietly, raising his mug again and shaking his head as if to dismiss the musing. "Ever'thing else is a tale to tell, believe me, but not one f'right now. We're both on our way to feelin' warm, let's stick to that path."

"Not that it matters much or anything, but I like the way you are," Shoshannah's smile was small, soft, and real as she reached across the table to gently clink her mug to his in a sort of toast. She might not know everything about him, but she liked what she did know and doubted there was much he could do to change that perspective.

She glanced back down at the book, unaware of the slight blush on her cheeks, and sipped at the coffee again. "Mm," Putting her mug down, she pointed at the picture he was currently on. "That's the Synagogue near my house...But if you turn the page, I think you might like those pictures more than these." She knew the exact spot in the book where her pictures turned and Angelo was on the cusp of it. The next page, should he flip it, was filled with too many pictures. The black paper of the page was gone, completely covered by blurred, quick, flashed shots of camera. But even then, Shoshannah had tried to find one thing that the viewer could focus on if they tried. The page was overwhelming even for her to look at and she rarely lingered on it because she liked the other pictures following it better, but it was an important feeling for her to document. "...That's how I feel when I walk into a place like this...Or any place, really." Her voice was quiet again, her hands around the mug once more.

The synagogue had gone unnoticed still, the edge of the page hovering in Angelo's fingers as he watched Shoshannah as intently as he'd studied her pictures, taking in the blush, the dance of her eyes as she spoke about her pictures, the way she gripped her mug tightly like a source of reassurance. "Do somethin' for me," he requested in a quiet voice, "Or maybe... maybe don't do somethin' for me." Angelo felt like he was toeing a thin line, like he was about to cross from just observing and musing to outright pushing his views on her, but he felt emboldened by the sight of insecurity that had no right to exist within Shoshannah.

"Don' ever go thinkin' that how you feel don' matter," he requested gently, "S'the worst thing any of us can do to ourselves, Sho. So many folks here'll try to make you feel like that on their own, so don't you dare help 'em out." And without another word, he raised his mug in response to her toast, sipping more coffee before he looked back to the page. "An' order me some flapjacks, too," he added, quirking one corner of his mouth in a grin as Angelo finally studied the shot of Shoshannah's temple. Just like the ones before it, it was clean, well framed, focused to draw the eye in, but he could see why it didn't stir anything inside of her. Instead, he finally turned the page, eyes widening in surprise at the contained chaos of the next page.

"Oh my, oh my," Angelo whispered with a streak of awe in his voice, eyes darting around the page rapidly to study each shot, then go back again for more detail. He suddenly understood how Shannah had said his tale had made her feel; Angelo knew he hyperfocused on people at times, but this? This expressed it perfectly. The world became a blur to him, a mess of indistinct colors, voices, and sounds that he knew were a melange of lives being lived. But like the pictures? There was always a point of clarity, a center that held all the detail he needed.

It was funny how Angelo had a way to just make Shoshannah stop and really listen to him. And how he always lightened the end of a very serious request with a joke. She'd been staring at him, really taking in what he said and harvesting the wisdom that someone who had lived a life so unlike hers had to offer, but she couldn't stop the laugh that came from his last request. "Ok. I can do that...on both accounts." She promised, knowing that with Angelo's support, it would be much easier to accept a feeling of confidence when it came to herself.

She stayed quiet while he attempted to take in the next page, a little smile on her lips as she drank coffee. It was a long, far out hope but it seemed like Angelo understood how she felt. Maybe the pictures did help? She glanced down at them, unnerved by seeing them upside down. It was even worse then because they didn't make sense at all from that angle. The pictures on the page beside it weren't any better. They, too, consisted of an overwhelming onslaught of images, but this time the theme was different. Whatever was depicted in those images; the Synagogue or even the library from before, were shot from angles below the natural eye-line, working to create a strong, menacing feeling of intimidation. She craned her head to watch that page instead, eyes softening with a sense that was too close to home. "I took these on the very first day that I lied to my parents about where I was going. I told them I went to the library, and I did, but I didn't stay there for long." Even now as she studied the images, she still felt a small flicker of unease. "The buildings were all so big and there were so many people around..." She murmured, trailing off. "I was fourteen." She ended lamely, feeling as though it would be repetitive to tell him how she felt on that day when he was looking at a better example than any of her words could be.

"An' your whole world shrank down," Angelo mused, too fixed on the pictures in front of him to look up, trying to imagine Shannah's frame of mind when she took each one. Fourteen, sneaking away from home, drowning in the sensory overload of the city... "So you picked up that camera, looked through the lense? Maybe felt like you disappeared when you had it up? Like you was watchin' them, so they couldn't be watchin' you... only there was too many of them, yeah?" He could see that intimidation in the pictures, in the low level of the shots that might've been from her age, or might've been deliberate. "Too many to catch in a frame, so you focused in on one thing, jus' to make it real. Looked up at the world," he noted, pursing his lips, "Jus' so you could show how easy it was to drown in it all."

That was the impression he got from her work, at least; it was a coping mechanism for facing a world too vast to comprehend, but too fascinating with potential to hide from. "I don' hope I'm wrong too often, Shannah, but I hope I am. Cuz you got a gift, rare as stars at noon, but it feels like it's one that hurt to nurture." She already suffered from her ailment, so this? This spoke of bravery, and a desperation to live. Angelo knew just how badly that could hurt.

"Couldn't have said it better myself." She smiled again, still soft and still laced with too many memories from those pictures. She attempted a joke, but she felt it wasn't as funny as his were. "Well, it did take me the whole day just to get those pictures. I zoned out so many times that all I can really remember from that day are these pictures." She shrugged slightly, sipping again at her coffee to feel the warmth travel through her.

"Thank you," Shoshannah blushed again, but she wasn't sure if it was the compliment or the person that was making her do so. A gift as rare as stars at noon? That was pretty rare and she doubted it was a clear perspective on what her photographs actually were, but they looked like they were touching Angelo and they meant something to her. Why should it matter if no one else saw what the two of them did. "They're not all like that. Once I got the hang of it...Well, you'll see. They're not all scary." But there was a very gradual change from intimidation and an overwhelming sense of drowning in a nameless city, to the hope that Shannah felt about it now. It had taken her a while to find the part of her that wanted to see the world as a place of wonder, a place of hope and dreams fulfilled, but now that she had she intended on filling ever single page left with that sense.

The early snippet of insight there was one that warmed Angelo as quickly as his coffee, drawing a fresh smile on his face. He'd wondered if the hope he saw in Shoshannah was in spite of what her pictures told him, if she saw the loneliness all the time but refused to let it drag her down, but hearing this? It made sense. She'd seen through the misery, focused in like with the first pictures he'd seen, found her strength. And now he was going to get the chance to see it. "I'm glad you brought these out," Angelo said as he flipped to another page of pictures, "I kinda... kinda get the vibe like you don' get to show 'em too often? S'cool, thinkin' I get a glimpse of your world, get to see outta your eyes."

Shoshannah looked up only to whisper to the waitress that they would both like an order of pancakes, before turning back to him. "I'm glad I brought them too," She admitted, her smile following his. "I don't really get to show them very often but I figured if there was anyone who might like them, it'd be you." Her mother sure as hell couldn't care less about Shoshannah's pictures and her father, even though he'd bought her the camera, thought it was just a cute little hobby she had. "It's nice to know someone sees them, actually sees them like I do. It's actually just nice to know that someone can see them." She wasn't sure if Angelo would ever know how much she appreciated just knowing that someone wanted to understand her. Maybe she'd find a way to show him someday. She could start brainstorming now.

"Oh, that..." She laughed a little. "It's really funny now, but those pages I took during the summer." Even as she stared at them, Shoshannah could feel the heat of summer on her neck. She could feel the overbearing humidity, the feeling of almost melting because of the heat. The images themselves were all of people (and even an occasional alley cat or dog) in the middle of a summer day. What connected them was the fact that these people, these animals, were all completely lethargic. Most of them looked irritable, annoyed that the heat had zapped them of their once full stock of energy, others seemed relieved just to be able to indulge in a little afternoon nap on the stoops of their apartment building, but Shoshannah hadn't cared why they were resting, just that they were. "...I took those in the summer. I really hate the summer, but it's the only season where people do what I do and can get away with it. Naps during the day and all that."

Angelo's eyes lit up as she explained the summer photographs, a peal of laughter rolling out as he nodded in understanding and tapped one particular picture with a delighted look. "Believe it or not, I kinda know these kids," he explained, turning the book to share the shot of three boys lounging on a front stoop. "More like I know their... guardian? Local boy named Dodge, he keeps an eye on a lot of the street kids. Must've been hot that day," Angelo noted, "Them boys never hold still otherwise." He could almost feel the season in the pictures, imagining heat lines radiating off the pavement, studying pictures of people leaning out their windows or fanning themselves with newspapers. "Gonna miss me when it gets hot out, too," he added, "Got myself a basement apartment, think I'll be hidin' down there all summer."

Shoshannah's surprise was clear. How was it that Angelo knew someone in her story of pictures? "This really is a small world, isn't it?" Watching the pictures, she couldn't help but scoff a little. "It's hot every day in the summer. I never do much when it's hot either. I can barely stay awake as it is, imagine when it's as hot as the summer gets...Who knows, I might have to barge in on your nice basement apartment. It might be the only way I'll stay awake for more than twenty minutes." She laughed now, but it ended up in her just shaking her head. "I really hate the summer."

"Well, when I get a nice basement apartment?" Angelo stressed playfully, "You jus' feel free to crash it. 'Til then, the door's open on the other one too." He could rarely help the self-deprecation there. Angelo's dwellings may have been fine for himself? But they were one of the few things that someone else's scrutiny could make him feel awkward over. Which meant that even if he was eager to get Shannah's take on his paintings, and maybe even try to get her to pose for one? He'd never wished as strongly as he did now that they were all hanging in a gallery somewhere. Still, that was some ways away yet, and for now the coffee and conversation were keeping him level. "Din' you ever pop a hydrant in the summer or anything?" Angelo asked curiously, flipping to the next page as he grinned Shoshannah's way.

"I'm sure your apartment is a lot better than you let on." Shoshannah's sipped at her coffee again, moving only momentarily to allow the waitress space to put their pancakes. "At least you have a place that belongs to you," She continued once the waitress had left. "My parents' house is great and all but it's still their house. It's not where I want to be." She shrugged slightly to his last comment, a laugh filling her face, scrunching her nose just slightly. "Me? Pop a hydrant? I was lucky if I saw any of the summer at all. Besides, I was barely allowed out when I was little so there wasn't much of an opportunity to pop a hydrant or chase down the ice cream truck." She didn't want to bring their conversation down, but as she started to think about it, there was quite a bit of those fundamental childhood memories that she'd missed. The all-nighters, the sleep overs, going to the movie theatre. Instead of dwelling, she caught his eye again. "Maybe you'll show me how to correctly pop a hydrant sometime this summer?"

Mindful of the food and drinks on the table as he slid the album aside, Angelo grabbed his fork and cut into his meal eagerly, nodding at Shoshannah's question as he did so. "First warm day we got, Shannah, wear somethin' you don' mind gettin' wet," he promised playfully, already imagining it. He'd want to paint that moment like he did with so many others in his life, to catch her in what Angelo imagined would be a truly carefree smile and frame her in drops of painted water. "An' technically?" he went on, pausing as he wolfed down a bite of pancakes, "I just rent the place, but yeah I s'pose it's mine. Course, there's down sides to it. Ice cream truck don't even roll through my neighborhood." He chuckled as his fork was lowered and exchanged for syrup that Angelo drizzled over his pancakes, silently wondering just how Shoshannah might react to Chinatown, if she'd ever been there before. "So... maybe I'm pryin'? But what're you fightin' over with your folks?"

The promise of a summer day that she might actually enjoy was new to Shoshannah. She smiled at the thought, wondering how it might be that he could make her look forward to something she despised. She cut at her pancakes carefully, taking the syrup only after he had finished it, and pouring a more than liberal amount on them. She had a mouthful of pancakes when he'd asked her, so she chewed while carefully trying to phrase her words. Had she told him they were fighting? She hadn't remembered, but he did know she was at the Drake and girls like Shoshannah didn't just show up at the Drake for no reason. "What aren't we fighting about is a better question. Basically, they were upset that I'd gone out yesterday, but I think they were more upset that I got in so late. It's not any of their business, though. I'm old enough now to set my own curfew so why shouldn't I be allowed to stay out until whenever I wanted? They still treat me like I'm five years old...I'm not sure it'll ever change." She looked down at her pancakes, a frown setting in her lips, slightly wrinkles of annoyance in her brow. "They don't trust me. I think that's what it all boils down to."

She hadn't actually told him that she'd been arguing with her parents, but in his narrowed world that consisted of her? Angelo had been listening to all of the mentions of things she'd been deprived, of her parents' home, and of the zeal Shannah had with every proposition that many people would think to be a simple thing. No doubt her condition had gotten her a sequestered life, and Angelo felt pangs of sadness for her there: more and more, he realized she'd meant it when she said that she was the girl in his story. "More likely that they don' trust all of us around you," he countered, digging back into his meal for a moment. "S'like... think of a rose garden, an' it's in full bloom, an' all you wanna do is feel a flower. Breathe it in, touch it's petals. But it's got thorns all 'round it, maybe some briars too," Angelo waxed between bites, smiling as he savored the syrup, "An' maybe you aren't the type to flinch from it? But there's folks who don' want you scratched up, don' want your clothes torn."

He was quiet for a few moments, focusing on his food again and washing it down with a swig of coffee before Angelo settled back in his seat. "I'm not sayin' I know them better'n you, or at all," he clarified, "I jus' know they gotta worry, it's what parents do as I remember. Maybe they don' know how sharp you are, sharper than them thorns they worry over. Maybe... maybe you'll get a chance to show 'em, an' things'll change."

Shoshannah didn't like the taste this conversation was leaving in her mouth. She had good coffee and good pancakes, but neither of them stood up to the feeling of utter helplessness her parents gave her. She picked at her food, spearing into the pancakes only to pull away with a little bit on the fork and repeat the action. "I've tried. They've worried about me so long now that I think my mother sees me as more of an obligation and my father sees like like a puzzle he hasn't figured out." She cast a glance up at Angelo, her smile only slightly away from a frown. "I don't really think about it much because there's not much to think about. But I know they don't want me going out for some reason." She attributed it to her condition, not her father's deep ties to the DiGiovanni family. "And I think they're just annoyed that I don't want to play by their rules. It's like when you buy a pet bird and the bird just sits in its cage, staring out the window. That bird wasn't meant to be a pet."

She stuffed her bite of pancakes in her mouth, mulling over her words. "Let's talk about something else? My parents ruin every conversation I have and they're not even here to do it themselves."

"A'course," Angelo relented easily, nodding apologetically to her. "Sorry, Sho, but trust me on this much; from this side of the booth? Not a thing got ruined." He supposed it was a world of problems he simply couldn't fathom: growing up comfortably enough to afford both medical care and luxuries like her camera, growing up with parents there the entire time even. Angelo hadn't had them as a factor in his life for quite some time now, though he figured that sharing that tidbit would bring Shoshannah down, whether he meant it to or not. "So... somethin' else? Dunno if it counts as a talk so much as a question, but you think that when you come by I could get another sketch?" he asked with unabashed hope in his expression, "'Cuz one thing I never get access to is a model."

Had Shoshannah known about Angelo's past, she would have kicked herself for complaining about her own. Her problems were superficial at the best compared to his. She glanced over at her bag. She loved her parents, she did, and even if her mother didn't seem to like her much and her father was overly-cautious around her, they had still provided a safe place for her to live her odd life.

She held a sigh in, listening to Angelo's proposition with confusion at first. Then her eyes changed and she was back to the happy, genuine, excited Shoshannah again. She'd thought the sketch of her was a one time thing, so the idea of him sketching her again was exciting enough in itself. "Of course you can sketch me again! I'd be honored to be your model anytime. I don't really know how to be a model, but I'll try to sit very very still." Shouldn't be a problem as she could feel the pull of her condition tugging at her. She willed it away as much as she could, focusing on him. It was miraculous how easily he willed her out of a bad mood. "I look like a wreck but as long as you don't mind, I'd be more than happy to pose for you."

If Shoshannah had led as sheltered of a life as Angelo was beginning to think, he was grateful for it in some senses. How many people, male or female, would look at him with pity or contempt for such a request? Sometimes it was due to the color of his skin, sometimes his poverty, but with her? None of it mattered, none of life's social stigmas had been engrained in her. "Every wreck oughta look so sweet," he complimented genuinely, shaking his head at himself and turning his attention back to the remnants of his meal so he wouldn't grin like a total fool to Shannah.

"An' modeling's easy," Angelo assured her as he ate, "'Specially for this fella. You pick the pose, I'll pick the paints. 'Less, that is, you draw the line at me... drawin' lines." He chuckled in a velvet tone, shrugging and looking back to her. "I got charcoals for sketchin'? But truth told, I was hopin' you'd have time for me to fill a canvas."

Again, she blushed, and covered it with the mug as she took a sip of coffee again. If he had been grinning, Shoshannah would have just mirrored the action. She picked at her pancakes again, barely noticing that she was almost halfway done herself. She picked up the pace, trying to match his so that he wouldn't have to wait around for her. "I've got all the time in the world. I'd really like to see you paint." She felt spoiled now, like she was getting to see a treasure she'd been dying to see and the fact that the whole world outside the two of them didn't seem to care about this treasure made her even more anxious to view it. "Will you catch the waitress when she comes back and get the bill?" She asked, searching through her bag to find her purse.

Angelo couldn't help a small laugh as Shannah tried to eat faster, errantly waving a hand her way. "'Course I will, Shannah. I'm bettin' Clara's waitin' to give me an earful anyway, so let's try an' sneak out 'fore she slows down enough to do it," he suggested with a wry grin. "S'not gettin' much drier out there, too, so the sooner we brave that rain? Sooner we get dry again." Which was when his anxiety would bubble over the brim, to be sure, but Angelo was excited too. Shoshannah struck him as a woman who appreciated small comforts, and that had him thinking that she'd fit naturally in his tiny apartment, maybe curled on the sofa in a pose Angelo would be able to capture. The idea made him smile awkwardly for a moment as he dispelled the natural avenues that such a moment might lead to, looking away from Shannah long enough to toss a hand up. "Clara!" he hollered as their waitress moved past, "You finally get to get rid of me again, girl!"

Luckily, their waitress slipped the bill onto their table and Shoshannah was pleased to know that she had enough to cover the bill and leave a tip. But little nuances like how much tip was appropriate to leave, she still hadn't mastered. The amount on money she left on the table was quite a bit more than a normal tip would have been, but Shoshannah didn't think twice about it. She put a much smaller amount of money back into her purse, reached for her photo album and closed it gently. "If you want to keep looking at them, you're welcome to." But she was hoping that by the time they got to his apartment, he'd be set on painting and she could view some of his work instead. Closing everything up in her large bag, Shoshannah slipped out of the booth and wavered while she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder. "Ready? We've got to move if we're going to get out of here without Clara giving you an earful."

Quite intent on looking through the rest of the album, Angelo nodded as he tipped back his mug for a final swallow. He slid from the booth with a grin, slipping his coat back on and extending a hand towards the strap of Shannah's bag. "I'm thinkin' we can move a touch quicker if you let this fella shoulder the load," he offered, ignoring the glares of a trio of diners hovering nearby, waiting for the booth Shannah and he were abandoning. Angelo certainly wasn't a strong man, his addiction had left him thin and undermuscled, but he was used to hauling equipment and art supplies around.

"As long as you're sure..." She slipped the bag off her shoulder and handed it out to him. It wasn't very heavy, filled only with her purse, camera, album, and a set of her favorite pajamas, but it was more awkward to carry. With the borrowed umbrella in her hand, Shoshannah hesitated for a moment, weighed her options, and made her decision. She took a quick step toward Angelo and slipped her arm through his free one, eyes hopeful when she looked up at him. "Is this ok? Just until we get outside, at least. There's just a lot of people."

Happy that he didn't sag under the weight of the bag, Angelo slung it up onto his shoulder with a lean in towards Shoshannah to compensate for the unusual shape and heft of it. Even if the feel of her arm sliding through his had been unwlecome? Angelo wouldn't have been able to say as much when he saw the look in her eyes. She was taking a chance, trying to find a bit of confidence in her choices and actions. "Jus' til we go outside?" he echoed with a hint of a smile, "What if I'm not feelin' ready to give your arm back?" He didn't wait for an answer then and there, starting to lead Shoshannah back through the throng of people, though it had lessened by now.

Before she knew it, Shoshannah was trailing along behind him, her smile widening once they made it through the people and found the exit. "Well, then I guess we're both in luck that I'll have a free one to hold an umbrella for us." Once outside, she awkwardly opened the umbrella and held it up over their heads, arm extended more than normal to accommodate Angelo's height. 'So which way to your apartment?" She asked, looking up and down the street. The rain hadn't picked up, it hadn't slackened. All it had done was cover the streets on freezing water and treacherous, slight sheen of ice in various places.

It took Angelo a second to answer as he looked up to the inside of the umbrella, basking again in the sound of the rainfall hitting it. Snapping back to the moment and the feel of Shannah's arm curled in his, Angelo nodded to his left with a shrug. "Same directions as before," he confided, "Hang a left an' follow the sea..." He led Shoshannah to the edge of the sidewalk, guiding his own feet along the curb and nodding down at the steady stream of rainwater flowing past them. "And thanks, Sho. For pancake dinner an' all," he added, feeling a little odd any time he was the recipient of someone else's generosity. It had been part of the reason he'd paid for the cab while Shoshannah had been sleeping the night before, even. "Is it weird f'me to be disappointed that we's technically even, now?"

She followed him happily, thankful Angelo took the lead. Shoshannah still knew next to nothing about the city itself or where to go, so if he lead, she could be marveled by the streetlights catching the rain or by the buildings themselves, especially the windows with water droplets clinging to them. Turning to him when he spoke, Shoshannah's eyes softened. "You read my mind, I swear." She'd just been thinking of how, now that their slate seemed even, if she could find a way to tip the balance again. Under the umbrella, Shannah's eyes changed, twinkling with another risk she decided to take. "So...it's your turn to pay next time, then? A real lunch?"

"Think I'd like that a whole heap," Angelo agreed, drawing Shannah's arm a bit tighter in his. Financing it might be tricky, but only if he wanted to do so tonight. Fridays were pay day down at the Kitten, though Angelo had no intention of collecting his today. He was having far too good of an evening to even consider going in to work tonight, though calling in would get him some trouble on his next shift. Still, trouble was an experience, wasn't it? And in this case, he was getting two of those; the inevitable trouble and the night ahead of him. With her, he mused, smiling privately. "You say when, I'll say yes," he promised.

"You're the one with the job. I think you need to say when and yes and I'll just show up." Shoshannah tightened her arm around his, unconsciously glad for the support he gave. She'd need it soon. She had been smiling at him, eyes caught onto his for the briefest of moments, and then she was blank. Her smile faltered a little, only the faintest uptilt at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lost the shine they'd had before. She was watching him, but not really seeing him. Surely, she had to look eerie, dull eyes staring at him but not seeing anything. Shoshannah was lucky to have Angelo there. The streets were wet and icy, a perfect place for her to slip and fall again; she could even go so far as to walk right out into the street like this, but that had never happened before thankfully.

The confusion set in fast for Angelo as they walked, stemming largely from the fact that Shoshannah's pace never slowed or even faltered next to him. But when he looked over, when he saw the unfocused drift of her eyes and the wilting of her smile? Panic followed confusion. Had he done something wrong? Had she seen her parents looking for her? Angelo twisted to look around them, keeping his grip on Shannah steady. Nothing. They were alone in the downpour. "Sho?" he asked quietly, giving her a little shake even as he paid extra attention to the path ahead of Shoshannah. "C'mon girl, say somethin' here."

Shoshannah blinked a few times but nothing happened. Nothing changed. This time, not even the gentle shake of Angelo's hand woke her. Instead, her foot caught a patch of ice and she slipped, only jolting out of the condition as she gripped harder to Angelo to keep upright. She was back again with a little laugh, eyes focused, clear as day, as if nothing ever happened. Unnerving, really. "I guess I really should pay attention to where I walk." But even as she tried to make up for her slip, she knew something was wrong. Angelo's eyes were notthe same. His whole face was tense, worried, not right. "What's wrong?"

Relief flooded into his brown eyes, visible even in the dark of the street and beneath the umbrella's canopy. What was that? What had happened there? "You... you kinda tuned out," he explained in a murmur, "Had me worried, Shannah." Was this a part of the ailment she suffered from? It had been nearly familiar, a look Angelo had seen in his first days on the pipe when he'd visited an opium den in Chinatown. The glazed look of someone who indulged too deeply, who lost themselves. Was this what she suffered from? Waking dreams? "You okay?" he asked with real concern, unconsciously twisting his arm around hers to seek out her hand and squeeze it.

Tuned out? Great...Shoshannah fought a sigh, feeling a clench in her chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you...You really shouldn't be worried, it happens all the time. Surprised it hasn't happened before, actually." She tried to make light of it, but she knew the look he had. Or at least, she thought she knew it. Now, studying his face and his actions, she found her hand held tightly by his own and his voice filled with concern. So he wasn't scared by it? Majority ruled that most of the time she zoned out, people became incredibly stand-offish just afterward. She couldn't blame them, it must be completely off-putting for the girl they were talking with to just not talk back.

"Yes, I'm fine, really." She assured, catching his glance again with her own, now filled with regret. "I'm really sorry you had to see that. I was hoping it just...wouldn't happen around you."

Of all the things he was, 'educated man' wasn't on Angelo's list. And while it could often be a hindrance, sometimes, like now, it didn't work against him. What science and medicine failed to explain, he could accept. And the gaps of knowledge that scared more learned people? Well, they were bigger gaps for Angelo, spaces he didn't try to fill in so much as see beyond or reshape his life with the understanding that he couldn't know everything. "Better around me than not," he countered, making no move to shift his grip, "I... yeah, it threw me a few steps? But if it happens? Hell, it happens."

It was too simple of an explanation, but Angelo was still trying to verbalize his gut feelings on what he'd just seen and learned. "Jus' makes me worry, I guess," he ventured, "'Bout what might happen if you're out alone when it hits. Makes me wonder where you go, what you see. If you know I'm here. I hope you do, girl, cuz I'm not goin' anywhere now."

She listened intently, her lips pulling into a small, almost sad smile. She couldn't tell him that she had no idea he was there, especially not when he was being so sweet like he was. Instead, she shrugged a little, "I don't really know much when that happens." She searched for his eyes again. "But really, you shouldn't worry so much." The idea that Angelo would be there, that he wasn't leaving, wasn't going anywhere, filled Shoshannah with relief, but also regret. She hadn't meant for him to feel like he had to be there. She didn't want him to feel obligated to look out for her. Her mother watched over her out of obligation, she didn't want the same thing from him. Selfishly, she wanted to know that he wanted to watch over her, but she couldn't say that either. It was too soon.

"Nothing to worry about," She assured him again. "But I'm glad to know you're here." Shoshannah tightened her grip on his hand just a little. "So please don't look so nervous."

Her wish was being granted even as Shannah spoke it, the nerves fading from Angelo's expression with concrete evidence that she was back. More importantly, that she was okay. He'd seen some peculiar medical problems before, though only fleetingly, and the idea of this sterling soul suffering from any of them was an upsetting one. It shook the personal belief he held of there being some kind of sense or poetry to their world. "If I'm lookin' nervous? S'cuz this is me up ahead," he confessed, nodding up the street to where the homes, businesses, and apartments definitely took a dip in quality.

"Been a short spell since I had company," Angelo explained, smiling at the glow that hung in the air beyond his street; the faint hints of paper lanterns under canopies, the first glimpses of Chinatown. "I'm jus' glad I paid all my bills, else we'd have a chilly night to sit through." Not that it'd be his first, but it would be a bad impression to give Shoshannah.

She was certainly glad that she was back to see this. Chinatown. She'd never even thought of coming to this area before but now that she stood amid the bright lanterns and lights, she couldn't find a reason why she hadn't. It was gorgeous. Not as pristine as her neck of the woods but she didn't care. There was something charming, magical about this place. Her eyes flashed around, trying to take as much in as possible like he had when he first saw her change in pictures.

"It's beautiful." She smiled up at him. "You're really lucky to live in such an interesting place." It seemed so lively, so welcoming. She didn't know the first thing about the negative sides of the town, but then again, Shoshannah never really thought about the negative sides of town. "Do you ever set up an easel outside and just paint that?" She was having a hard time asking for her camera back, her trigger finger wanted to capture every subtlety that small glimpse of Chinatown gave her.

The idea of bills being paid late or not being paid at all was lost on her. She frowned a little at the idea, but he said he'd paid them and there was nothing to worry about. She wouldn't have said anything if his apartment was cold, she'd have been all to happy to just be somewhere new. "Don't be nervous about your place, Angelo," She tried again, althought the sentiment was a bit late due to her need to see Chinatown. "There's nothing to be nervous about. I'm not going anywhere," She continued again, playfulness darting in her eyes. "So if I can't be nervous then you can't either."

"S'a hard habit to shake, is all," he insisted, nodding despite himself, "But I'll do my damndest, Sho. S'not like I'd 'spect you to bail just cuz a' my pad, wouldn' be a good opinion to have of you." And he did have a good opinion of her, in fact so good that none of his anxiety had stemmed from her reaction to his apartment, instead flowing wholly from just having someone else there. It wouldn't matter who it was, Angelo would be bothered by his own life. But he wouldn't let those feelings dissuade him, instead keeping on towards his building where it sat on the block before Chinatown itself.

"Yeah, I've done one or two canvases of here," he added, remembering that she'd asked him a question, "S'hard to do much more than the scenery though. Folk round here call me a gwei lo," he said with a twist of Mandarin rolling off his tongue, "Means 'foreign devil' or jus' 'outsider'. They don' get a whole lot of black fellas in this neighborhood, I guess." He grinned with the explanation, not seeming bothered by his neighbors' xenophobia one bit and keeping the other terms they used for him quiet. Plenty of them spoke a bit of English, after all, and Shannah would know those other terms.

"Of course I wouldn't." On the contrary, Shoshannah thought it was so commendable that he had a place to himself. So what if it was small? She had a distinct feeling that its size would actually boost her opinion of the place. Her house was too big, too cold...She was almost positive Angelo's place would be nice, warm and welcoming no matter what the size.

"You'd think they'd be a little more neighborly," Shoshannah nudged him gently with her elbow. He kept surprising her, didn't he? "How much of that language do you speak?" It wasn't a far cry to say that Shoshannah probably hadn't heard much Mandarin in her life. She wondered if she was keeping him from opening the door to his apartment. It wasn't fair for him to have to stand out in the freezing rain just because she'd not seen Chinatown before. "Don't wait on my account, though. I'm keeping you outside in the cold when we could be inside and getting dry. I'll look at Chinatown another day." She said, making a point to look him in the eye, as if to say that it was more like just another excuse to come see him.

Angelo laughed warmly at her urgings, nodding and hopping down the four stairs to his apartment door quickly. THere was a small recess around the doorway, an old wooden folding chair sitting in it in a spot where Angelo would bask on nicer days and watch the foot traffic pass him by. "I speak a lil' bit," he answered as he slotted the key and unlocked the door, "Got a friend in the neighborhood who stops in for a drink now an' then, he's taught me bits over the last coupla years. Comes in handy, too, these markets they got's some of the freshest in town."

He popped the door open, grinning at the low rattle of his heater as it carried out to him and slipping inside ahead of Shannah. Angelo ducked low under the pullchain of his overhead light, reaching to tug it down with a soft click that bathed the apartment in light. He'd been telling the truth, it was tiny: a common room with a chair, sofa and record player, an open kitchen space that merged with the living room, and a pair of doors for his bedroom and bathroom. By the couch, just as he'd said, was a long row of paintings stacked up and facing the wall. "An' this is me," he introduced in a grand tone, his smile hinting at the light joke there, "Lemme take your coat an' you can grab a seat, I'll put the kettle on."

It was just as she expected and nothing like what she expected all wrapped up in one. She followed him eagerly into the apartment, leaving the broken down umbrella outside by the stairs. Shannah took her time glancing around, one quick look first, then slower to take it all in. Warm, welcoming, and the perfect size. Well, maybe a bit on the small side, but he looked happy standing there in his apartment and she was sure happy to get to see it.

"Angelo, your place is really nice." She unconsciously shrugged out of her jacket, handing it to him with a smile before she turned back to look at the apartment. It was such the opposite of the house she'd grown up in and exactly what she wanted to see. It wasn't cold, it wasn't isolating. It wasn't big enough for Shoshannah to disappear in and she liked that idea. Being able to be there, to be seen even if she was asleep, even if she was away...it was plain to see that Shoshannah relished the idea of that. She too often felt isolated in her own home.

THis time, Angelo clamped down on the reflex to disparage his place again. Shannah had seemed adamant about judging the place for herself, and as sweet as she was? Angelo didn't think she'd lie to spare his feelings. He moved to settle her bag by the solitary chair, slipping off his own and tossing both coats on the seat. "S'cozy," Angelo agreed with a slight grin and nod, "An' I only got one window? But the walls is thin enough that I can just listen, like a radio."

He chuckled a little, moving for the counters that comprised his kitchen space and snagging a pair of mugs from a cupboard. "Cheap, too, an' my landlord cuts me a break on laundry down at his place. Oughta learn yourself a touch of Mandarin," he mused, chuckling, "Goes a long way in this city."

It was definitely cozy. She took a few steps and found herself sitting on the couch, still too caught up in his apartment to be thinking about much else. She glanced back at him again, a telling look in her eyes. "It's great, it really is." Sure, it was definitely the opposite of what she'd been in this morning. Her room at the Drake was big, bigger than she needed, and free as of now, but there was something about this apartment that just mesmerized her.

"I know some Yiddish, but not anything else." Grinning, Shoshannah's eyes traveled to the stack of paintings near her. She fought with the urge to get up and sort through them now, but that would just be rude. She could wait, as anxious as she was, for when Angelo wanted to show them to her.

Her room at the Drake was likely bigger than his apartment, but when Angelo shut off the faucet and moved to set the kettle on his stove, the look he caught in Shannah's eyes was a good one to be on the receiving end of. She looked like she fit naturally there, settled on his sofa, and Angelo gave her a wry grin as he clicked a burner on. "Well, consider me at your disposal if you ever find yourself wantin' to know how to haggle over fresh veggies," he offered playfully, moving back into the little living area. Angelo headed over to the sofa, curious and anxious as he stepped to the stack of paintings and brushed his fingers along the edges in a silent debate. Where to start? He wasn't entirely sure what, if anything, might catch Shannah's eye, and it was clear as he tipped his two blank canvases back from the stack.

"You can help yourself with lookin'," he offered, "S'not too often I get someone wantin' a gallery view. So jus'... grab whatever you wanna scope out, I guess?" But he was tipping through the pictures for her right now, at least, tilting each back to give fleeting glimpses of anything that might catch her eye. There was a swath of blacks and greys on one; an alleyscape where the shadows were dotted with faint forms of Dodge and his kids. Another held swirls of deep blues to capture a settling night along the skyline of the city, textured raindrops of paint falling over bright splashes of color, foot traffic trying to escape the downpour. There was one of his glimpses of Chinatown in there, definitely a far less abstract piece than Angelo usually did, forming a tapestry of warm reds and oranges from trails of painted light that extended off of paper lanterns. Sang-min had been captured in one canvas; a languid form stretched on the steps of Angelo's entryway, expressed in a deep green flow that wasn't proportionate, but somehow captured the man's ease of living. And, of course, there were Shoshannah's eyes; spaced between two corners of the canvas in warm browns and hidden behind streaks of blue, whorls of purple, and a light frame of red that might have been the horizon of her neighborhood.

"I'd love to see the marketplace someday," She offered with the same grin back at him. As he walked to his pictures, Shoshannah realized two things. One was that the sofa beneath her was comfortable, oddly enough, that she felt like she fit right where she was supposed to in it. Like a little section of that sofa might be meant for her. And secondly, that she was more than happy to make any plans that lead to her spending more time with Angelo. She could feel her cheeks warm a little, but didn't have much time to dwell on her thoughts, not with Angelo by his paintings.

"Angelo..." Her eyes darted, taking in as much as she could from each glimpse he showed her. Luckily, the paintings emitted emotions easily and Shoshannah felt them tug at different parts of her own emotions each time a new canvas was shown. As much as she would have liked to stay on the sofa, his art beckoned. She was up and beside him in no time, zeroed in on each scene as it passed her. Shoshannah could see why Angelo was the only one so far to understand her photographs, her real ones, because he painted exactly what she tried to capture on her own. From the distant, slightly frightening view of the alleys, to the bright warm streets of Chinatown, Shoshannah felt the images. "They're amazing," She felt the rain from his deep blue canvas, felt the sense of calm that the green canvas gave her, but she when saw the last one, she looked up at him and blinked. "That looks a little like the sketch you did...." Her lips tilted up in a smile, eyes filling with a mixture of recognition and hope. Had he really painted her? "Is it?"

All Angelo could really do was chuckle awkwardly at the praise, standing up and folding his arms with a smile in place. His usual self-doubt was nearly silent for once, dashing detracting thoughts before they could even take hold. If Shoshannah didn't recognize what art critique there was in the city? Her reaction was from a purely instinctual level, and he liked that. "I don' sketch for fun," he murmured, glancing up from his shoegaze to Shannah, "I mean, it is fun? But when I wanna paint an' can't, I sketch." Definitely true; somewhere in the stack of paintings were other sketches that had eventually found their way into his brush. "Sometimes inspiration strikes you from a blind side," Angelo added with a bit more confident of a grin forming.

"Maybe you need something like a portable canvas and a little set of paints to stash in your trumpet case and take with you everywhere?" Shoshannah asked as she caught his eyes again. "That way you'd never be without your paints, even if the canvas would be a little smaller than these." She turned back to look at the canvases again, eyes drifting to the one of her. He hadn't technically said that, yes, that was the canvas he'd painted of her eyes, but she knew. The feeling it gave her was too close to home for it not to be. And if that canvas was a reflection of how Angelo saw her, she'd never felt more beautiful.

Suddenly, she turned to him and looked him in the eye. "When I get a job, I'd like to buy one of your paintings." She said seriously, determination in her eyes, a small grin on her lips.

"I can swing that," Angelo said easily, trying not to get too excited about the prospect immediately. The thought of her having one of his pieces hanging somewhere was tremendous in it's own entirely distinct way, and as for his discomfort when it came to other peoples' money? If Shoshannah wanted to pay, it was an investment in him trying to make something of one of his outlets that she seemed so awed by. "One condition," he amended, grinning back with a twinkle in his eye, "Not the one I do tonight. This one'll be a keeper."

Shoshannah was also entertaining the idea of one of Angelo's paintings hanging in her room. If she got to see one of his paintings every time she woke up, she'd be the luckiest girl around. "You've got a deal." Her voice was a little softer, flattered that he wanted to keep whatever painting came out of their time together tonight for himself. She could hear the faintest whistle of the kettle in the background, but it couldn't tear her away from this moment. Standing among Angelo and his work, Shoshannah had a feeling that Angelo was privy to: her world shrinking. The problems she'd had earlier with her parents, the walk back to the Drake in the freezing rain, none of it mattered or even existed. There was only Angelo, his paintings, and his apartment now, and she couldn't be happier.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Shoshannah was nothing if not curious about how Angelo worked. There was a slight nervousness in her at the idea of being a model for his paintings, but after seeing the one he'd already done from a sketch of her, her intrigue was winning out over nervousness. She just hoped she could stay conscious for this.

Though Angelo didn't realize it, he had a rare moment there where he saw through the eager potential, where some little whisper in his head clued him in to the fact that he needed to actually call out of work. "We's waitin' for me," he answered, moving first to the kettle as the low shriek of steam built from it. Plucking it from the stove, he poured two mugs' worth of water and dunked in tea bags, handing one to Shoshannah before moving to his phone and slinging it up to his ear. A few rotary turns later, he was listening as hte line rang and eventually clicked to life. "Leo, boy," Angelo greeted as he spoke to a fellow bandmate from the Kitten, "'Member how you owe me one? You don't no more if you tell the suits how sick I am."

He cast a conspiritorial grin Shannah's way as he listened, chuckling softly. "Yeah, guess I do sound like hell, son," he agreed, "An' thanks for that soup you brought me. Sure it'll have me back on my feet by tomorrow. Take it easy, boy." The phone was dropped back in it's cradle as Angelo moved for his mug, blowing at the steam with a pleased expression. "Now we ain't got nothin' to wait for," he noted, bringing his tea with him to the chair across from the sofa, and plucking a folding easel from behind it. "Do me a good turn, Sho?" Angelo requested, "Got a pair of blanks at the front of that stack, grab me one?"

Taking the mug, Shoshannah treasured the warmth for a brief moment, bringing it close to her to take a long sip of the tea's scent. She blew on the steam, having learned (if just a little) to try and be more cautious with hot drinks. At least she didn't think anything was going to catch her off guard again so burning her mouth wasn't another option. Luckily, she wasn't drinking the tea when he picked up the phone and dialed into work. Shoshannah listened, confusion playing at her eyes. He was calling out of work for her?

She waited until he'd finished his phone call, but he was speaking again by the time she'd opened her mouth. "Sure," She said, sitting the mug carefully on the ground (out of the way of her feet), before moving to find what he asked for. She picked up one canvas, holding it out first. "Is this right?" Bringing it over to him, Shoshannah tried to catch his eyes. "I didn't know you had to work today. I'm sorry, I didn't completely ruin your plans, did I?" She wanted to offer to leave and tried to bring the words to her mouth, but she just couldn't say them. It was selfish, very selfish especially because Angelo actually had a job, but she wanted to stay here and see his painting first hand. "You're sure you don't need to go in?"

"Right on the first try," Angelo assured her, taking the canvas by the top of the frame in his free hand and letting it hang. Whether he was aware of it or not, it was good to have the canvas between them as a barrier in that moment, when Shannah managed to catch and hold his gaze. Angelo could be impulsive at times, and ones like now when he was full of inspiration and a burning need to create could easily get him in trouble, trouble he didn't think she'd appreciate. "Shannah, you are my plans," he stressed quietly, "The moment you called? Last place I wanted to be was workin', s'truth."

Sure, he sometimes got a kick out of the sharp suit he wore for house shows at the Kitten Club, but the music didn't move him at all, the work was work, not a passion. "They's gonna be jus' fine without me for one night, I guarantee it," Angelo went on with a cautiously aimed sip of tea, given that he hadn't managed to look away from her, "But if I had to bail right now? I wouldn't be so fine. I... I like this, you know? Somethin' 'bout you clicks with me, girl, a night's pay is a lil' thing next to that."

Shoshannah was caught, unable to break with his gaze if she wanted. He was right, there was something that just clicked between the two of them. She didn't know what it was, nor did she really care. It made sense to be here. Not only that, but the idea of her being his plans, of her being the whole focus of someone..Well, what girl didn't want to hear that?

This just felt right, but there was only one thing she could think of that would make this moment better. She broke their gaze, feeling her cheeks start to warm again with the beginnings of a blush, but she couldn't stop now. She'd made a decision and she was going to stick to it, thanks to Angelo's insistence that she should do what she wanted, when she wanted. She moved carefully around the canvas between them and wrapped her arms around him. She could have laughed about how short she was compared to him, but now wasn't a laughing moment. She couldn't remove the smile from her lips, though. "I like this too," She promised, 'And you're right. Something about you clicks with me, just the same."

Lord? Angelo thought as she slid in close to him and he felt Shannah's hands settling on his back, Grant a man more hands when you got a sec. He held precariously still as she moved in, unsure of how to juggle the canvas and his tea and the woman who'd gotten so maddeningly close. Well, somewhat unsure; he knew he needed to free up a hand somewhere, after all. Slowly bringing the taut canvas out and away from them, Angelo lowered it until he felt the edge touch the ground, then tipped it to fall backwards. With an apartment this small? Odds were good that it would hit a wall and be safe leaning there.

"S'connections," he murmured, finally bringing an arm around Shoshannah's back, "We don' realize it too often? But we all spend every day tryin' to connect, to click with someone who feels the same. Good an' evil, man an' woman, you name it... none of us wants to drift." He was in trouble, Angelo knew it. His thoughts were spilling free and unfettered, rolling past his lips in a low murmur, and although he was helpless to stop it, Angelo could at least recognise when his passions were getting the better of him. This felt achingly familiar even if it was the first time, and once again? She was making his stories fit his life.

Wary of the mug that was safely stretched away from both of them in one hand, Angelo took a slow breath to drink in the smell of Shannah's hair as his hand smoothed up her back. "All we look for, when you strip the details? Is findin' a tide that pulls more than jus' us," he explained, guiding his hand up from her back to coax Shoshannah's gaze up at him. Angelo took the briefest of moments to study the contrast of his thumb at her cheek and the warmth in her rich brown eyes, leaning in low to catch Shannah in a light kiss, not daring to push too hard for fear that this would all shatter.

She could listen to him speak all day. With her head pressed against his chest, she relished the sound of his voice, pairing it with the reverberation of it at her cheek. She was all too happy to forget about the way she felt outside of this apartment, the isolation she knew at home and the wariness others gave her for no good reason, in favor of the warmth and welcoming feeling she found in Angelo's arms.

With a little coaxing, she pried her face from his chest and glanced upward, eyes catching his once more. She had a feeling of what was reflected in her eyes, a sense of the safety she felt, the ease that she had by just being around him. She hadn't expected what would happen next, but as Angelo's lips brushed hers, Shoshannah swore she could feel her heartbeat all the way up in her throat. Her eyes widened at first, but once she realized that, yes, she was kissing Angelo, her thoughts shut off. Unlike him, she could barely think at all. Eyes shut, she felt herself lean into him slightly, felt herself reciprocate and press her lips against his more insistently.

It was all over too soon when she pulled back slightly, and was swarmed as the world outside just her and him came back. It wasn't much, just his apartment, his paintings, the tea...but it was too much, still. Searching with her eyes open, Shoshannah tried to find him again, to be drawn back every so slightly. The expression she wore was completely new; filled with awe and surprise, boarderline shock at the fact that he'd actually wanted to kiss her. The mixture of her emotions led her eyes from that surprise, to an honestly flattered feeling, but no matter what her eyes changed to there was always the ever-present, ever-so-slight glaze threatening to spill over. She fought it as best she could, knowing from experience how her condition could ruin just about every good feeling she had. She wasn't about to let it ruin this. Sheepishly, she caught his eyes again and her blush flared, but her words failed her. All she could give him was sincere, warm smile.

The tea had left her lips warm, in addition to imparting the faintest flavor that lingered in the absence of Shoshannah being there, and it seemed a small miracle unto itself. Angelo sighed quietly, a contented sound that matched the look he was giving her before he leaned in again, pressing his lips to her forehead fleetingly. He'd seen the glossy edge in her eyes, was it because of him? Or was it her ailment threatening to intrude on this moment? Both options were nerve-wracking, though in hugely different ways, but he wouldn't worry over it yet. Always time to complicate things later, he told himself, finally leaning back just a touch to grin warmly.

"Rose suits you," he murmured, noting the blush in Shannah's cheeks, "I'm thinkin' I should surprise you more often, Sho..." He wasn't making any effort to distance himself from her yet, either; lazily walking his fingertips along her shoulder and back. But at the same time, even if he wanted to? Angelo wasn't pressing back in, thinking that a move like that would cheapen all of this. 'All of this' was more than just that heartbeat of contact when he'd felt her breath slip past his lips, and even if the connection felt strong? He knew it could be fragile too.

She smiled more at the second kiss, trying to calm the pitter-patter of her heart. Secretly, once they broke the kiss, she'd been unbelievably nervous she would scare him off. In all of the experience she'd had with kissing (which wasn't much, but still enough) she knew that it didn't generally help the after-effects of a kiss if the girl completely ignored you. She felt a shiver down her back triggered by Angelo's fingers. The sensation was pleasant, new, and she held tightly onto it.

"I like surprises." Shoshannah mirrored his grin. Even if she wanted to lean in and kiss him again, she knew that she was already tempting her condition. One more kiss and she'd be gone and she really, really didn't want that. Instead she settled for watching his face, his eyes, for the way they changed. All in all, a surprise kiss where she didn't pass out or lose her focus at the end of it was a very successful kiss.

She wondered idly if he still wanted to paint her or if they would stand this way for however long she was allowed to stay here. At this point, either option was perfectly fine with her.

It would've been easy to do exactly what Shannah hoped for and stay put, but for his tea. Angelo's arm was still extended, still keeping the rapidly cooling mug from splashing on either of them, and he needed a solution that would let him put both arms around her. "Hope you like balancin' games too," he warned with a flash of mirth in his eyes as Angelo tightened his grip on Shannah, leaning precariously back with her as a small counterweight and straining to feel the chair that normally hid his easel. The edge of the seat was a welcome feel as he slipped his mug onto the chair, trusting it to be stable enough for the moment.

"An' if you don't?" Angelo asked with the same spark in his eyes, "I did happen to pick up a spare surprise back there too..." He was feeling playful with the relief of having kissed Shannah, avoiding a rejection, seeing the heat in her smile. Playful enough, in fact, to bend low and slip his other arm around her, hoisting Shoshannah up off her feet and snugly against him with a delighted laugh. "S'a short trip, at least," he added with a wink, turning with her held to move back towards the sofa. The intent to capture her in streaks of paint hadn't vanished, or budged an inch, but right now? He was focused in on two things that both hinged on her; comfort and closeness.

Shoshannah found herself instantly pulling back, hoping that she could be enough of a stable weight for Angelo with her tiny frame. Her laugh was slightly nervous. What if she wasn't strong enough to hold them up and they both were sent toppling to the ground and tea got all over his paintings? She was all too grateful when he stood straight again, glad that no paintings had been ruined due to her lack of strength.

"Oh!" A spare surprise indeed. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck and held herself firm there, shock in her wide eyes at first. It dwindled down slightly, a similar spark in her own eyes and a laugh on her lips. Short or long trip, Shoshannah didn't care. She'd only ever been picked up out of necessity, mostly by her father, when she fell asleep in places she shouldn't. This just added to the sense of magic the night was giving her, being carried simply for the sake of being carried.

She felt the sofa slide up underneath both of them. She gave a quick look down to assure that her cup of tea hadn't been knocked over in the travel over. Assured as she saw that it was still sitting where she placed it, Shoshannah turned back to him. Maybe it wasn't exactly true, but she couldn't help the feeling of pride she felt. A kiss to make a painter not want to paint and sit with her on a sofa instead? It must have been meaningful. But as she sat there, arms around his neck, realizing just how close they were to each other, Shoshannah felt the need to fill the silence in the air, but her words could never hope to be as eloquent as his. "Thank you..." She trailed off, unsure at first if she was thanking him for the trip over, the kiss, or both. Both, definitely.

Quite often, when it came to his art? Angelo needed to indulge immediately in some fashion. If he couldn't paint, he would sketch, and if he couldn't sketch? He would at least muse on colors or certain nuances that had to be expressed in a piece. So it was more than a little strange that what had started as a night built around the urge to portray Shoshannah had become a night where... it could wait a while. Maybe he would let her drift off here with him, paint her as she slept. Maybe the first brushstroke wouldn't happen for days yet, and when all of the elation gathered tight enough inside of him he would only need to hold the brush to let the feeling express itself. He didn't know.

And he didn't mind not knowing, either. Here and now, with the light weight of her in his lap and her arms around his neck? Angelo was happy, content, awed by the enormity of the sheer feeling. "Feel like maybe we should swap 'thank you's, Sho," he murmured from his seat, curled with her as he let his hand roam up her side, "You can stay, you know... late as you like. Right here, even."

She shifted slightly, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, but keeping her arms where they were. She felt the shiver again from his hand, glad her blush was covered at least from where her head was. It wasn't a bad feeling, his hand, but it was a little intimate, but as she thought about it, her smile widened. This might be her very first really intimate moment. No one had ever gotten close enough for that, but she was nothing if not curious about new experiences and the feeling itself wasn't bad. Just new.

"I might have to take you up on that," She warned, pulling back to look at him a little. "I don't want to fall asleep, though." There was so much here to see, to experience, and if she slept through it...It would be as close to a tragedy as Shoshannah could think of. In the back of her mind she knew that this night would have to end and she would have to sleep at some point. She smiled, though, hoping to make a joke out of it. "You sure you know what you're offering? Your sofa's so comfortable that I might never leave."

"Tryin' to make it sound like a bad thing?" Angelo asked skeptically, transfixed by how her hair hung near her eyes when Shoshannah leaned back to speak to him "If you are, you gonna need to try a whole lot harder." He couldn't know her thoughts, or the worry that sleeping brought her, but if he had? Angelo would've simply pointed out that sleep didn't end anything if they were both still here when she woke. When they woke, given the lethargy he could feel settling into his bones from the sheer comfort of their shared situation. "You can sleep, Shannah," he assured her with a gentle smile, "I'm not goin' nowhere, promise. If you drift? I'll float with ya, an' we'll jus'... we'll pick up right here when we wake up."

Now it seemed like he wanted to sleep. And now she was worried that a whole new problem was surfacing. He didn't know this, but Shoshannah tended to have a certain effect on people. If she started seeing her own lethargy transmit itself to Angelo (as she had seen it happen with her own mother), she wouldn't know what to do. She didn't want to dim anyone, but specifically not him. If anyone needed to be bright, it was Angelo.

"I get really sick of sleeping all the time." She admitted, a smile still on her lips but the worries were coming through. "I miss a lot when I sleep..." But if he was going to sleep too, what would she miss? She could feel it tug at her, but she tried to push the exhaustion away. "But don't let me keep you up if you want to sleep."

Her eyes turned skeptical. "Do you have to work tomorrow?" She really couldn't make him lose paychecks, but he didn't work in the day, right? The day was still safe.

"Tomorrow night, yeah," Angelo answered as, despite the urge to just pull her in close and sleep, the wheels in his head started turning. He could feel pangs of heartache for Shannah, for everything she lost when sleeping, and for how unwilling she would be to just drift off now. He wouldn't let that happen. They'd had coffee, they had tea here, and they had hours of the night to while away together. "So... my day'll be for sleepin'. I don't see much when I dream, seems like there's more worth findin' awake."

Shifting slightly under her, Angelo still had his hand resting lightly at Shannah's side as he fixed a curious smile on her. "You wanna try somethin'?" he asked enigmatically.

Shoshannah listened while he spoke but she searched his eyes for a sign of tiredness, for a sign of him holding out on her account. She didn't want him to do that either. She caught his smile and, slowly, her lips twisted into a playful, curious one of her own. "...Like what?" She asked, but she knew her answer would be yes.

"S'gonna involve gettin' up," Angelo warned, keeping his voice low but warm, "Walkin' over to the easel with me." He actually sat forward then, something sparking in his eyes with the idea. Why had he assumed so quickly that he couldn't have both this closeness and his art? Angelo could see her in his mind's eye, he felt like he could recall a sea of subtleties about Shannah, all learned in the span of the last five minutes. He didn't need a model, but he still wanted her here whether she was posing or not. "Thought maybe you could keep me company while I start on somethin'?"

The offer was too good to pass up. She knew her condition would force her asleep sometime but this would keep her as awake as anything would. She nodded, grinning as the spark returned to her eyes. "Sure!" She'd wanted to see him paint but this would bring a whole new perspective to it. If she could be closer up to the canvas, she would admire his work more easily. She wondered if he'd carry her again, but knew she shouldn't expect him to. Still she waited, to see if he nudged her up on her legs or up into his hands again.

As much as he'd like to heft Shannah around like a newlywed? Angelo wondered if it was too familiar, not to mention he distrusted his own strength. She was light, but he was far from strong, and dropping Shoshannah to the floor might be something of a ruiner. "C'mon," he murmured up into her ear, slipping off the couch with a regretful smile. Angelo eased to his feet like a cat waking from a sun nap, drawing Shannah up with him and away from the couch to the easel. He dipped down to reclaim the canvas one-handed, hoisting it up to the easel neatly, then leading Shoshannah to stand in front. "Wait right here," Angelo instructed playfully, stepping back from her and moving for his bedroom door in search of his paints.

Regretfully, Shoshannah moved slightly so he could stand and followed suit with his help. But then again, if they hadn't broken contact now, there would be no chance for a new contact later. A small smile on her face, she followed him to the easel and stood where he positioned her, laughing a little. Her looked was playful as she stood straight and still. "Won't move a muscle." She promised, watching as he headed to his bedroom. She turned her attention back to the easel marveled at the blank canvas on it and how it wasn't intimidating to Angelo like it was to her. How he could make something out of nothing..It was miraculous.

It took Angelo a minute as the light clicked on after him, giving a glimpse of a small bedroom that didn't hold much beyond the bed itself. He tried to be quick, of course, digging out his box of paints and brushes from under his bed next to his stash and lugging it into the living room. "Okay, so first thing?" Angelo asked as he bent down, tucking brushes into his pocket, "Close your eyes, tell me the firs' color you see." Nearly ready, Angelo's hand hovered near his tubes of paint as he waited, watching her eagerly.

Closing her eyes, Shoshannah saw blurs of two different colors. "Brown...and rose." She said, peeking over at him with one eye open. "Are two colors ok? I saw them both at the same time." She only saw warm colors, but she wondered if Angelo would like the choices. "But this is supposed to be your painting. What colors do you see?"

"Close, actually," Angelo confessed as he grabbed for tubes of paint, "An' I like the rose more... bit more subdued than what I saw." A squeeze of red hit the pallet as Angelo slid his thumb through the grip at one end, joined soon enough by the closest hazel Angelo had. He dotted his brush with brown, working a dot of purple out with it and blending both with the red to lessen the richness of the color, to subdue it slightly and bring it closer to her suggestion. "An' it's me on the brush end of things?" Angelo said quietly, "But it's you on the canvas." He moved to just behind Shoshannah, stretching an arm out to her right and dotting the back of her wrist with the rose-colored mixture before reaching for the canvas. "S'my first collaboration, Sho," he murmured with a grin, laying down the first streak in a slow downward arc.

"You sure seem to know what you're doing considering this is your first collaboration." She glanced at him, eyes open and lively now, no trace of sleepiness in sight...yet. "I'm honored." If he needed more inspiration for a rose color, it could be found in Shoshannah's cheeks. She was blushing again, standing as still as she could so she wouldn't mess him up, and laughing gently at the dot of paint on her skin. Turning to look over her shoulder at him, she could only smile more. "Want me to hold the...paint plate?" She asked, sure that that wasn't the real name for his pallet, but figuring he'd understand what she meant.

Standing so close, it wasn't intentional when he laughed quietly into Shannah's ear, but Angelo wasn't going to complain. "Not so sure I'd trust myself havin' a hand free," he teased as the brush twisted slightly, thinning the line of soft red and giving it a slight curve in it's progression. "An' what can I say? This needs to be captured, I'm not gon' shrink from the chance." Oh no, no way in hell would he pass this up. The image he had was his own, but the colors coming from her would give it a true resonance, a feel that was Shannah. Bringing his arms out in front of Shannah, Angelo touched down on the pallet for another smear of rose, resuming the initial stroke with a careful steadiness to his hand, and if Shannah looked at it right? Those first passes of the brush might resemble the curve and flow of legs, hips; a lounging pose that could easily be had on his sofa.

Neither was Shoshannah. His laugh was so warm it sent shivers down her spine. Or maybe that was his breath on her ear? Either way, it was welcome. More than welcome. She latched onto the feeling and treasured it. This whole combination of things was about as perfect as she could imagine. Here, with him painting around her, encased in his arms while he made a work of art inspired by her? Was there really anything better than that?

"Fair warning, I'm about to be a good few inches shorter." She wanted to stay focused on the painting, on the beautiful situation she'd found herself in, but her feet were killing her. She'd kept her heels on, not intentionally, and now they were digging at her feet. She carefully slipped out of one, then the other, and scooted them to the outside of their little huddle carefully, wiggling her toes once she was standing flat-footed again. "I'm not too short, am I? Guess it might be easier to see over my head now."

Turning her eyes back to the painting, Shoshannah was caught off guard by the soft, sweeping line on the canvas. It looked so soft, so feminine, that it made her blush just knowing she'd inspired that sort of feeling. She felt a little self conscious at the idea that she could draw that sort of emotion from someone. "That's pretty," She murmured, the words not doing it justice.

"S'got promise," Angelo agreed with a smile, recoloring his brush to continue the first passage, "An' I din' have no problems with the view before, neither." He was lightly teasing, his focus torn between the physical form between him and the canvas, and the portrayal gradually forming on the canvas itself. Deft and certain, Angelo guided the streak of subdued red along again, bringing slow definition to the legs, dragging them up into a proper body and creating a drape to the arms, as though one was a pillow and the other hung free of the body's curl.

His style was certainly strange, lacking in real definition but implying plenty of subtext with the simplicity of the form. Heedless of the splotch of paint it left on his shirt, Angelo tucked the sullied brush into his pants pocket and swapped a fresh one to his hand, dabbing it in the hazel paint on his pallet and, again, dotting Shannah's arm with it lightly, as if recording the progress of the piece on her skin. "Now, if this was a proper chance to see how I paint?" he mused, "You'd be wearing a whole lot more by now." Smirking over his own joke, or maybe the idea of a paint-smeared Shannah, Angelo brought his fresh brush to bear, working soft strokes of brown into the edges of the rose paint and delicately streaking the very tip along what would constitute a face on the undefined form. "'Course, it already takes me long enough to clean myself up. Two of us needin' a towel? We'd be here till tomorrow night." Which wasn't a bad idea, just one that wasn't realistic. She had her own life outside of his orbit, and he had a gig at the Round tomorrow that he wouldn't be calling off from.

Shoshannah glanced down at her hand, smiling at the little dots of color there. "Do you always paint on people?" She asked, looking back at him once more over her shoulder. The idea of her wearing more paint made her laugh; it brought a whole new meaning to Angelo painting her. "What does painting on skin do that it wouldn't do on the canvas?"

Of course, the idea of staying there until the next day and even the next night was intriguing but, yes, unrealistic. She had to get back to the Drake sometime. She had to seriously sit down and think about how to fix this problem with her parents. A small smile passed on her lips. "You told me to tell you when I planned on coming down to the Round again? How's tomorrow night sound? I hear there's a pretty good musician there and I'd like to see his show." The same playful spark flickered in her eyes as she caught Angelo's own again.

She got another long, warm chuckle as Angelo painted, coaxing the brown into vague streaks that gave some idea of where the figure lounged, but nothing concrete enough for anyone aside from himself or Shoshannah to know the moment. She'd lived it, he'd witnessed it. "Paint on skin?" he murmured in a soft echo, halting the brush in it's progress, "S'different, Sho. It moves with you, flows, shows all kinds of beautiful symmetry that we don' notice when we see each other. S'funny, like... like you get covered up, but then people can see you. It's all 'bout how you wear it."

He bent low to his left, grabbing paint tubes in a hand and standing tall as she looked back to catch his gaze. The smile blossoming there was purely reflexive, and even if Angelo never ran out of them? It didn't feel any less joyous to him, it was just something she drew free. "Tomorrow sounds good, but you might wanna skip that show," he teased, squeezing blue and black free in tandem and swirling the two together to deepen the blue, "I heard that fella on stage likes to run his jaw, ramble the night away."

Funny how she didn't think it would take being covered in paint for Angelo to really see her. She extended her arm a little to him. "Well, feel free to paint away. My arm is your arm." Her eyes drifted back to the painting, slowly taking in the curves of the lines, the subtle, soft colors there. These paintings really were so beautiful. It was such a shame that no one else seemed to see that.

She shook her head a little. "Well, the thing is, I like when people ramble on. I'll be there. I don't think skipping the show is an option for me." She admitted with a grin back at him. She wanted to see as much of his art as she could, to feel as connected to his stories as she had to the first one he'd told. And this time, she told herself, she wasn't going to fall asleep in the middle of it.