ARIA'S POV
Elena stood in the middle of my apartment with her arms crossed and said nothing for almost two full minutes.
I'd learned not to rush her silences. She looked at the canvases the way she looked at everything, completely, without the social pressure to react quickly. The ugly orange and gray one above the headboard. The three newer ones leaning against the wall, still drying. The half-finished piece on the easel by the window.
Finally she pointed at the newest canvas. "This one."
"What about it?"
"You started to smooth it out here." She indicated the upper left corner where I'd gone back in and softened an edge I'd initially left rough. "Don't."
"It looked unfinished."
"It looked true." She turned to look at me. "You have something to say in these. Something I see very rar
