The brush gently moved over the worn canvas bringing back the vibrancy of the colors. The long hours ofrestoration extending the life of the vision before him. In a way she had been captured too. Ethan sat back and stretched, he’d been sitting for hours at the easel. The beautiful woman rendered before him was a familiar face.
One he had thought he’d forgotten. “How cruel can our memories be? To block something for so long, and then let it all rush back in a moment.”
Lightly his fingers traced over the long hair of the woman in the painting. She was so passionate. He could still feel the press of her lips on his as he closed his eyes. Those sweet kisses soon turned to curses.
He was to blame, of that there was no doubt. She thought he had eyes only for her and really he’d had eyes for Selena, her sister, and a few other ladies of the square.
For being so giving with others she had him cursed. Something he laughed at until the next sunrise.
A glance at the clock made him sigh. He covered the canvas to protect it during the day. He could feel the dawn coming, Ethan wondered if this is what vampires felt as the sun began to break the edge of the sky.
He walked out onto the balcony and watched the sky begin to turn from darkness into brilliant light. The world waking. A familiar tingle began as the first rays touched land. Slowly he began to fade. The brighter the sun became the less of him there was to see.
When the last of night had been sent on its way Ethan had gone back to his canvas. His physical body was taken not to be returned until sunset. During the day he hung above the mantel. A modern looking man in a Renaissance decorated room. The brass plate on the frame says Ethan Osborne 1437.
To live forever, days trapped in a canvas world. Night brings freedom to walk the earth. That is his curse for breaking the heart of a witch.