Blue.     Green.     Yellow.     Red.     Orange.

The colors where blended in a drastic bright background as she leaned close to the canvas.  A slender number 28 brush in hand was drawn down over the canvas leaving a straight black line.  The background was nearly done for the Japanese festival themed painting.  Tip of paintbrush was set between her teeth, gripping it as the second number 28 was used to leave behind a line of white beside the black.  The edge was tucked in between her lips so the two brushes hung from her lips precariously.  Leaning back head was tilted before she lifted a spatula and used just the edge to slide the white into the back on a curve giving it a metal shine and the look of a rounded metal pole.  

Spatula edge was wiped off on the towel that lay across her legs.  So many bright colors decorated the canvas, in the very background a blurry but recognizable dancing dragon with a dozen human legs.  It was a mix of reality and the history of the culture.  Lips pursed faintly as she removed the brushes from her lips and set them in the water to soak.  She leaned back from the canvas as her stomach gave a wild growl.  The mixing palette was set aside as she pushed up from the chair heading through the darkened foliage crowded loft toward the kitchen area.  It was so simply the lay out, nothing fancy, just lots of greenery amid the bricked walls and ventilation vents along the ceilings.  The hanging fans spun lazily pushing more of the air conditioning down toward her. 

Metal take out container was lifted out of fridge as she hipped the door closed, pulling back the plastic top and sniffing at the food.  Still good.  Plate was removed from cupboard and food dumped on to it unceremoniously.  The plate was set in the microwave as she tossed the container out.  The microwave light exposed the paint splattered on her hands and clothing.  But it was the same clothing she always wore when she was painting.  A pair of shorts and a muscle shirt, even her hair was pushed back under a backwards simple baseball cap.  Beer was retrieved as was the food once it was ready before she ducked past the small area with her bed and dresser to the wider area she used for her studio.  Already four new paintings where drying leaning up against the brick wall. 

Settling down on the chair, her foot nudged the tripod to the side before staring at the first painting she had done.  It was long since dried and sprayed with protectorate.  Caine's eyes seemed to focus directly on her own.  It was a large canvas that showed him lifting a rose to his nose to smell, although the smile that had crossed his face was something less then innocent.  And the lust in his eyes, it was obvious just looking at the painting. 

Fork was set against her bottom lip as she chewed her attention completely on the painting.   It tightened things deep inside her that she knew was due to loneliness and needy feelings. A sigh was given as she turned her attention back to the canvas in front of her before finishing up her food and beer and continuing on with her latest painting.

Something had to happen soon, or she might snap at the wrong moment and attack someone.  It didn't help that Caine and Tino had both entered into her dreams turned nightmares.  Despite the fact she hadn't seen either man in a few days, she still dreamed of them.  The journal that Bree had instructed her to keep seemed to be just that, it didn't reveal anything.  The nightmares never ceased.