Work Text:
In the middle of the crowded museum, Maxim felt Ileana’s hand tap his shoulder. Her eyes lit up when he turned around.
“Maxim, come see this,” she beamed, not waiting for an answer as she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a less crowded area where a painting of a weeping willow was displayed. There was a girl knelt down on the grass next to the tree.
“My father painted this before the war,” Ileana told him.
Maxim read the plaque. Jacob Fernsby, the artist’s name was. The man who taught his wife everything she knew.
“It broke my heart that they auctioned off his paintings after he died,” Ileana sighed, though her smile returned immediately, as if it had never faded. “But I’m glad that it’s here. Now all of Yorkshire can see what a genius he was.”
They did not go straight to Cornwall upon their return to England, opting instead to visit Ileana’s home county. She wanted to show him where she grew up before the death of her parents, and throughout this trip, Maxim often wondered why they had taken so long to do so.
He put an arm around his wife’s waist. “The girl in the painting, is that meant to be you?” he asked, noticing that they shared a few features from what was shown.
“Yes,” Ileana hummed. “I remember he had me kneel in that exact pose for at least an hour while he sketched the base.”
She was laughing at that, and Maxim couldn’t resist the urge to laugh with her.
“Now I see where your talent comes from,” he looked down at her fondly.
His eyes landed on her belly, only just starting to show signs of pregnancy, and he hoped their child would inherit its mother’s and grandfather’s skill.