Original Sin - Cast in Stone

She felt his hand on her arm and she smiled as he gave it a small squeeze, a gesture to show his appreciation all the while remaining what he was—a professional. Her heart fluttered at the thought of returning to his workshop and he soon reminded her of her family and how they would soon be rising. She gave him a small nod before turning and heading towards the house.

Every muscle in her body wanted her to turn around. She wanted to see if he had been watching her and if he had, if his intentions had been appropriate.

When she had finally walked through the iron gates, she gave a quick glance over her shoulder half expecting him to be there. Of course, by then he had already disappeared down the road and she quietly jogged up towards the house, lifting the front of her dress to facilitate her quick movements. Minutes later, she slipped into her room. She closed the door slowly, before unfastening her cloak. Carelessly, she let it slip off of her before she then began undressing herself.

Alessandra struggled momentarily to remove her dress. Once she had, she slipped into her sleeping gown and crawled beneath the silk covers of her bed where she thought about him until her eyelids grew heavy. She wondered if he had thought of her as more than just his subject. She could feel herself become more and more infatuated with this man the longer she thought about him and his beautiful eyes and his dark curly hair. He seemed so mysterious, yet insightful, talented, yet reserved. Yawning dreamily, she then slipped into a deep slumber.

She was awoken hours later by one of her maids whom had brought her breakfast. Groggily and with deep circles under her puffy eyes, she instructed her that she had not slept well and that she believed she had grown ill. The maid excused herself and Alessandra nodded, making sure to add that she was to instruct her mother and that she should not be disturbed so that she could rest. Not long after, she had fallen asleep again.

Ciro awoke to the bustle of people returning for the afternoon. Mid-day in Naples was hot and muggy this time of year and people would return home to escape the midday sun and to eat lunch. Ciro got up off of the sofa and made his way outside to the local well. He drew up a pail of the cool water and brought it home to wash his face. After refreshing himself with the water he strolled over to the pub across the square to get himself a light lunch of bread, meat and a half pint of beer. He also ordered some fruit for Alessandra for that evening. The selection wasn't as good, and he hated buying it from the pub. The market would be much less expensive, but at this point in the day there wasn't going to be much left. The wine he had a good supply of since he made it himself.

He went back to his workshop and began chipping away at some of the stone, choosing the stance he wanted for Eve. It had to be both seductive, innocent and natural. In the bible, Eve was not ashamed of her nudity and neither was Adam. The two would have to be posed in a position of natural innocence and seduction. They were meant for each other in the eyes of god, they were of one flesh. The Adam and Eve he was going to work on was of one stone. Ciro chided himself for thinking his work could be equal to that of god. He could not grant life, he could only reflect it. Ciro made not of his pride for confession that Sunday.

He chipped the majority of the stone away from the head area using a heavy mallet and a thick, pointed chisel. The steel tools grew so hot he had to chill them from time to time, just to ensure they would not bend or skew. Finally the rough shape of the head and shoulders were visible as to where they would sit. He pictured Alessandra, nude, leaning forward her hands reaching forward towards something. Perhaps an apple? It was too early to tell. He hoped against hope she would see the project through to the end, as long as she was comfortable with him it was possible. He shook the visions of her naked body from his mind. He swept the floor of the coarse chips of marble and put them into a barrel. He would be able to sell the chips to local merchants for decorating the lawns of the rich. He cleaned his tools and put a change of clothes into a pack and made for the bathhouse. He wanted to be fresh for this evening when Alessandra returned.

The bathhouse was open and a pleasant mix of young men and women were there, bathing and relaxing. It was a great place to study the human form. Perhaps he would be able to find some models if Alessandra decided she did not want to model for the nude portions of his statue. He knew that he was lucky to have her and that such luck was unlikely to present itself a second time. At least in the meantime he could study the forms of women. He did not want to stare directly at any one person, so he causally scanned the room. Eventually he got out of the cool pool of water and made his way to the hot stone bath. Every 5 minutes they would drop a large stone that had been heated in the fire into the pool. The rock would fall in with a hiss and the water would heat up. Another man would gather the cool stones from the pool and set them to dry on a ledge. Ciro scanned the hot pool and saw people talking each other, oblivious to their nudity. This was how it would have to be with his muse. She would have to be so comfortable in the nude that she didn't regard it as unnatural. He pondered how that would happen. Wine would be involved, but it would take more than that.

Ciro went for a dip in the cool pool before leaving for his workshop, refreshed and ready for work. He prepared the sofa for Alessandra and he set out the customary tray of fruit, this time consisting of mostly cherries, apricots and plums. He ate the remainder of the tough bread and meat he purchased from the pub and relaxed on the sofa, falling into a light doze.

The second time Alessandra opened her eyes, she was surprised to see the maid in her quarters again, watching her cautiously as she slept. The woman had been her caregiver since the day of her birth and she knew if she wasn’t well, it was of deep concern to her as well. “How are you feeling, my child?” the woman spoke softly, lovingly in the same way a mother would a child. Though her mother was both kind and gentle, the way this woman cared for her and her sisters was as if they were her own children. Alessandra gave her a warm smile, sitting up to greet the woman. “Much better,” she replied, clearing her throat as though it was bothering her. Even if there wasn’t a hint of an infection or a cold, she had to find some reason for having slept until well past noon. Glancing over at her bedside she noticed that the woman had brought her some warm chamomile tea with some leaves floating at the surface, sitting where her breakfast had been. It wasn’t to her surprise that the woman had prepared one of her many remedies; she had a cure for everything. “Thank you,” Alessandra said as she took the cup and pretended to take a sip of it. She then set it back down before sinking back into her sheets.

Alessandra then turned on her side, her thoughts returning to Ciro as the woman began picking up her cloak and the dress she had left on the floor from the previous night before taking them to the closet and from what Alessandra imagined, she would pick out a gown for her to wear that day. In only a matter of hours she would see him again and this brought a flutter to her heart. The thought of him brought a smile to her face. She thought of his look of deep concentration when he chipped into the marble, the calculating glances he often gave as he gazed at the stone then at her, then at the stone again. He was mesmerizing in every way imaginable. She took in a soft breath, feeling the warmth down to her core, spreading from between her legs and radiating throughout her body. The sensation was intoxicating, addicting and she longed to just feel his hand in hers again like she had felt when they had said goodbye. “What about this one-” Alessandra was startled when the woman came back into the room with a velvet gown of deep purple. Before she pulled the sheets to the side, she discretely pulled her sheer gown down as it had ridden up in her excitement. “Yes, I do like that one very much. Father brought it back for me from Rome,” she said beaming.

The rest of the afternoon she spent walking through the garden where she smelled the fresh bright yellow roses a few of the maids had cut. Her sisters had gone out to the mainland on horseback earlier that day, and her mother had been busy managing the household while her father was gone to realize she had rose from bed. She gathered about fifteen of the roses, raising the bundle underneath her nose and inhaling their sweet scent. They reminded her of when she and her sisters used to play hide and seek in the garden and often she would have to be the one to find them because she was the youngest. Alessandra laughed softly to herself, remembering when she had left them to hide for hours and instead she had gone back to watch her mother knit. They had been very upset she had left, but were always haste to forgive her.

She had brought the flowers back with her in hopes of taking them to Ciro’s studio. Though the accommodations were quaint, she had wanted to bring more color to the room as opposed to the different shades of gray swirl of the marble. So again, when the time came, she retired to her room later in the evening, waiting until the right moment where she would leave through the back to meet Tomas again. She would give him his share as promised and he would escort her through the deserted street into the art district once more so she could fulfill her purpose for another night.

When she entered the room, she immediately noticed him on the couch, resting from what it appeared. She gazed at him with parted lips, drawing back her hood as she quietly took small steps towards him. Alessandra didn't want to startle him but at the same time she didn't want to wake him if he was too tired to work. Eventually she reached his side and she smirked as she separated one of the flowers from the bundle in her hand and gently tickled his nose with the soft blossom.

Ciro had been having a wonderful dream. He was on the couch when the door swung open. It was Alessandra. She shut the door and locked it behind herself. There was no-one around to disturb them. He stood immediately and got up to greet her. He felt apologetic for having fallen asleep. "I am so sorry, I must have..." his mouth was stopped by one of Alessandra's fingers. "Shhhhhh.." she said. She stepped aside and took off her heavy cloak. She was wearing the blue dress again with the golden trim. He smiled and walked over to his bench to get his tools. When he returned she was lying on the sofa. She was nude, but her body was covered in pillows. She beckoned to him and he walked over toward her slowly. "Does this mean you'll agree to..." He was shushed again by the single finger against her mouth. She beckoned him closer and closer. He could feel the effect she was having on the more primal parts of his body, but he didn't care. He got close to her and she embraced his face with her hands and pulled him in closely, gently pressing her lips to his. He could feel the urge to ... to...

Ciro awoke in a violent sneeze that rattled his brain.

He looked around and saw Alessandra standing over him, a rose dangling inches above his face. She wore a smirk to which Ciro thought was caused by his arousal in his dream. He thought to explain himself and decided the awkwardness was best left unsaid. He rose slowly from his reclined position and sat, somewhat awkwardly, up in a sitting position. He chuckled at the sneeze. She had snuck in on him, like in the dream, but she was wearing purple. A vibrant colour, not common among most people. She must have come from a very affluent family.

"Ah, what a lovely face to wake to." Ciro smiled. "It truly belongs in ageless marble forever."

Ciro finally regained enough mastery over his body to stand again. He took her cloak and hung it on a peg near the door. He also brought out the fruit tray and the wine, as he had the night before. He returned to his station beside the rock and motioned for her to sit. For the time being he wanted her relaxed still. On occasion he would ask her to stand, reaching forward with both hands, just to get the positioning right. He wanted to get the entire form's shape before he began on the finer, more detailed work.

He asked her to stand and to show him her back. He watched just for a second, mesmerized, but turned back to the chipping of stone.

Alessandra bit down on her rosy bottom lip as the soft yellow pedals of the bloom still grazed against the skin of his nose. Moments later, she gasped as she was startled by his thunderous sneeze but broke into a fit of giggles immediately after. She wondered what he had been dreaming about, or if he had even been dreaming in the first place. She was also fortunate to know that he had not been upset with her innocent prank and from the look on his face; it appeared as though he found it amusing. She watched him curiously as he sat up from where he had been laying, bringing the rose to her nose and smelling it like she had earlier that day when it was cut from the garden. When he had spoken, her lips curled into a warm smile and her eyes averted to the floor at the extent of his kind words. She was not used to this constant praise and flattery, but she found she enjoyed it very much. What woman didn’t want to hear talk of her own beauty from the same man that brought so much excitement to her? “You’re too kind to speak so highly of someone who is so readily willing to take advantage of you when you are most vulnerable,” she said teasingly, as he took her cloak from off her shoulders to hang near the door.

The heaviness of the cloak had soon been lifted, and she glanced around the room for a vase or anything she could use to put the flowers in water. “I hope you don’t mind I brought these with me. I wanted to bring more color into the room and they’re rather nice to look at, aren’t they? May I use this?” she asked, signaling towards an empty white jug she imagined he used for milk or wine or some other sort of beverage. Eventually she sat back down when he had motioned her to, placing the jug on the small table next to the couch where she became aware of the tray of fresh fruit he usually had ready for her. It was so kind of him to think of her and she wondered if he was this accommodating to all of his models.

And there she sat quietly for the rest of the time he worked, not wanting to disturb him. Ever so often he would ask her to stand, to change her position just slightly, to reach for something and she would willingly do so, making sure to stay as still as possible. She took small breaths and she concentrated on her balance, as she did not want her slight movements to annoy him—after all, she was an amateur. And at the same time, she thought about being natural because she didn’t want to force certain positions. She remained relaxed and poised, occasionally smiling at him when their gazes met briefly.

His next request was to turn around and show him her back. Without hesitation, she slowly turned her back to him, gathering her long dark hair with one hand and guiding it over her shoulder to give him a better view of her backside. She closed her eyes nervously, letting the sound of the chipping stone distract her from the thought of him gazing so intently at her form. She was tempted to twirl her raven hair around her fingers, tap her feet, hum a tune, just anything to distract her mind. She hoped her maid had fastened every button, tied every lace on the back of her dress. She would be humiliated if it was anything short of perfect. Her eyes opened, finding the roses again. She'd have to think of something else.

"Do you live alone?" she accidentally spoke, biting down on her bottom lip as a harsh blush fell on her cheeks. It wasn't of her concern whether he had a family, or a wife, or anything. She silently scolded herself for being so forward, but the damage was already done.

Ciro admired her backside for a moment. It's round symmetry and beauty was an indulgence he could not pass up. She was a shapely girl, perfectly rounded in all the right places. She was a beauty the likes of which could make anyone want to break out in dance and laughter.

"Yes, I live alone. This was supposed to be just a workshop and I was going to rent a place to sleep in, but I figured it would be better if I didn't venture far from my work. Sometimes I become very excited and I must start working. If I had to walk an hour to get to my shop I might lose the burning need to work. Plus... I am not a rich man and having one place saves me money."

"Please, do not feel you have to stand still forever. I will ask you to move to a certain position if I need you. I would actually like to see you move freely. It will be easier for me to capture your posture and your musculature. It will be much easier once you're nu, um, no longer new to this. You'll get much more comfortable with what you're doing."

Ciro rolled his eyes and slapped his own forehead with the heel of his palm when she wasn't looking. He couldn't believe how easily his desires betrayed him. First his state of arousal at what turned out to be the touch of a rose and now his staring agog at the fine backside of Alessandra. He wanted to find the strength to resist but Bontà Maria, he was only a man.

He Chipped away the form to a rough shape of the position he wanted Eve to be standing, her hands stretched out low, as though both catching and offering the apple that fell from the tree.

"It's time for a little break." Ciro wiped his brow and went to the large basin full of cool water. He splashed some onto his face and behind his neck to cool down. Some of the dust from the marble gave the water that splashed off of him a milky look, but the rock was so coarse it sank immediately to the bottom of the basin.

He went to the wine cabinet and drew out a bottle, pouring it into a soapstone goblet. It was one of his first pieces he had ever crafted from crude stone. He was quite proud of it as a 10 year old trainee, looking to become an apprentice. He gathered another cup and offered it to Alessandra.

He smiled to Alessandra. "To your health."

He lifted his glass and drank some of the strong Italian wine. It was heavier than he usually drank, but it was good to have before a large cup of water.

"I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your modelling for this piece. You are truly a magnificent model, with no formal training. If it weren't for the fact I know you would never need the money, you could be the most famous model since the Mona Lisa. However, if I had my way, you'd only ever model for me. Your face in stone will have other sculptors demanding my secrets and revealing my muse. It will be the greatest triumph and the greatest tragedy in the arts if you are to only model once."

Ciro shook his head and put down his drink, sighed heavily and walked back to his stone.

Please, if you would sit down on the sofa and look at me for a moment. Ciro waited for Alessandra to sit and to meet his eyes.

She was surprised to learn the fact that he did live alone and that he most likely did not have family anywhere near the city of Naples. Her clear eyes glanced down at the floor momentarily at the thought, almost feeling guilty at the thought of not being able to afford more than one home. Though she came from an affluent family, she always tried to pay mind to those who were not as fortunate as she. It must have been difficult to have to work for everything you own. It wasn’t as simple as marrying into a right family for the majority of the people.

“I would bet anything that you are happier than the richest man in Naples,” she added to his statement. “How could you not? You’re doing what you love, living your life and not having a care in the world.” He didn’t have to worry about what he was going to wear to the next social gathering or any of the other nonsense she knew her family worried about.

His next words brought her some relief and she relaxed herself further. She was pleased to know she wouldn’t have to stand there as though she was the stone figure and he was just making a replica. She was free to move. Inhaling softly, she rolled her shoulders back, adjusting herself so that she felt more comfortable. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes met his. “You make me feel comfortable, Signore…” She hadn’t caught his slip up but she did see him put the palm of his hand to his forehead. Immediately, she turned back around to face the direction her body had.

It seemed as though an hour had gone by and finally he announced that it was time for a break. She watched as he splashed his face with the cool water. When he offered her the drink, she willingly accepted, smiling before she took a drink to her health. “Thank you,” she then replied, feeling as though the wine was a bit stronger than the one she had before. She took a few more sips until she was nearly done before turning to speak to him.

“When are you going to stop flattering me so much? I’m only an amateur,” she insisted, smiling brightly. “If that is the case then I shall only model for you and only you,” she said playfully, taking another sip of her drink. The words just came out without much hesitation, but she didn’t think much of it. When he instructed her to sit at the sofa, she did as she was told, sinking into the dense pillows beneath her. Alessandra inhaled the soft scent the roses gave off, closing her eyes and stretching her arms above her head as she laid comfortably across the sofa.

Anyone would deem her actions inappropriate for a daughter of a noble, but she found that she had been felt a little more carefree. Laughing softly, she sat back up at met his eyes. “How do I look?” she asked him, giving him a sultry look. Her lips were slightly parted and her hair pulled to one side, cascading down the front of her.

Ciro caught the sultry look and dropped his chisel. It fell to the floor with a clatter, which was to his benefit. Had it not made any noise he would have been dumbstruck and would have stared until he fell of the ladder or she became insulted and hurled fruit and wine at him.

Ciro managed to utter "captivating" before descending his ladder and picking up the chisel. He ascended the ladder and looked at Alessandra. While the look he was given would certainly raise the pulses of anyone who passed by the sculpture, he kept it to himself. He could feel the gentle nudge of his primal nature and the front of his slacks suddenly were a little more repressive. He adjusted the ladder behind the block to hide himself in case it became abundantly apparent that he was affected by her gaze.

"You may be an amateur, but you have a natural grace that most models would give their eye teeth for. You're so comfortable in your own skin. You exude confidence and a subtle inner ... I don't know. Perhaps I am only seeing things through the eyes of a dreamer." Ciro was glad for the stone, it gave him something safe to look at. She was radiant, all of which came through her eyes. He resolved himself to capture the smouldering eyes of Alessandra. That would be the last part of his work.

Ciro chipped away at the stone and began the finer work of tapping the area where the neck met the shoulders. He began the slow process of smoothing out the surface, bringing it down to a rough, but noticeable shape. Her long neck began to take shape and the outline of her chin and jawbone became more and more clear as he tapped away tiny pieces of stone from the slab.

The chisel that had fallen startled Alessandra, but it hadn’t phased the look she had given him. Her eyes ran down the length of the ladder and to where the tool had fallen to. She then watched as he descended to retrieve it. She took this time to take another sip of her wine, finishing off the rest of it before she placed the soapstone goblet on the table beside her. Perhaps it had been the fact that she had been drinking on an empty stomach or that the wine seemed stronger than what he had the day before. Whatever it was, she was starting to feel the effects.

She took a deep breath, adjusting herself as she sat comfortably into the sofa. She would fall asleep there if she could. The way it cradled her made it seem as though it had been made for her and her figure. She then found that the room a bit more stuffy than usual and when her eyes met his again, she thought about asking him to open another window. Fortunately, she restrained from this and let the small wave of heat linger until she felt it no longer—clearly it had been her thoughts that had triggered such a response.

When she glanced back at the statue, she could already start to see the outline of her body, though she assumed he still had an ample amount of work left. It was then she realized that she had not yet fully made a decision as to if she would model for him nude, when the time finally came. Part of her had wanted to, to fulfill his dream of finishing the perfect piece in his eyes, but the other part of her was still cautious of her father finding out. It would only be long before someone realized she had been leaving late into the night to see him.

But she and the alcohol in her system had decided that she did want to do this for him, to save him some trouble of finding another model. She swore she would pray three times more than usual just to make up for it. So when her eyes met him again, she raised her index finger to beckon him over. She wanted to take another break, seeing as she was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. She bit down on her lip to suppress any giggling or laughter that wanted to escape her lips as she waited for his reaction.

Ciro hesitated at first, wondering what she wanted from him. He looked at her from behind the cold marble and when his eyes met hers he could only comply. He stepped down the ladder slowly. He wanted to jump off of it in a grandiose gesture but was so smitten with her look that he would have found himself on the floor of his workshop, sitting on his ass. He swallowed hard, wondering what it was that she wanted and made his way over to the sofa.

He found he could not take his eyes off of her. He was locked into her gaze, she held him captive.

He walked over to her and smiled. He didn't know if she wanted him to bring her more wine, more fruit, if she was tired or if she wanted to go home. All he knew is that she beckoned to him, which meant she wanted him to come to her. He stood immediately in front of her and offered her his hands to stand.

When she pulled onto his hands to stand herself up, he used his strong arms to pull her into him. It was a little more forceful than he thought it would be, but the effect was exactly what he wanted. She came tumbling at him and crashed into his body. He could feel the softness of her breasts pushed into his own chest and as she came tumbling forward he lowered his hips so that they met at the mouth in a single motion. He kissed her as she was pressed against him.

For a moment the room was silent and Ciro dared not to speak. It was too late and the damage was done. He waited for her to demand her cloak and to storm out of the workshop, never to be seen again.

Her eyes never left his as he approached her and she hoped her news would please him. In such difficult times, she imagined how hard it had been to find a model, much less one that seemed perfect for the job at hand. By all means she knew she was not perfect, but this man held her at such a high pedestal, that she felt as though she owed it to him. No other potential suitor that her father had presented her with had praised her like he had. From what she could tell, he was genuine and his words were not meant to deceive her.

Without hesitation, she placed her delicate hands in his, meeting his gaze when he helped her stand. Moments later she felt the jolt his arms had used to pull her in. Seeing as she was already feeling the effects of the wine, it was of no surprise that she had lost her footing and crashed into his body. In an instant, she felt his the softness of his lips as they met hers, the hardness of his chest as it pressed against hers. Everything stood still at that moment and she reckoned time did too. And as fast as it had happened, their lips pulled apart and a silent awkwardness fell between them.

Were she sober, her cheeks would have immediately flushed the color of the cherries on the tray. Under these circumstances, however, she felt that his lips had given her a heightened sense of being intoxicated with something other than the alcohol stained on her lips. Without another thought, she closed the gap between them again, wrapping her arms around his neck before pressing her lips to his once more, wanting to taste the addicting sweetness that came from them.

Her hands moved from around his neck to the side of his face, embracing his cheeks with her touch. Alessandra then began giving him a series of quick kisses, covering his lips and his neck as she lead him back onto the sofa behind her. Bringing him down to her, grabbing him by his shirt collar, she clenched her small fists into a ball, tugging his strong body down to her, her lips never leaving his olive skin.

For a moment, she paused, interrupting the series of open mouthed kisses to gaze up at him. "I have to tell you something...I have decided to be your model. If I do model again, I want it to be for you. I will do anything you ask of me, anything you need to complete this masterpiece of yours."

Ciro returned each of the kisses with one of his own. His mouth pressing against hers, her cheeks, her neck and her chest. He was unable to control his urges and she showed no signs of wanting him to stop. His mouth fell onto her body and he tasted of her sweet, soft skin. The feel of her lips on his own neck and mouth was dizzying. She had him by the collar, pulling him down onto her. He could taste the wine on her lips and was besotted, despite the fact he had only consumed half a glass of wine. She was what caused him to be so intoxicated and Ciro could not resist to sip again from the sweet lips of Alessandra.

As she paused, breaking their mouths apart she said she would model for him. He was elated, knowing that such a beauty would be only source of inspiration for Eve. Her perfect form, her beautiful face and her dazzling eyes and smile would all adorn Eve. He envisioned her, before him in nothing but the beautiful skin that God had given her. He kissed her again, breathing her scent in through his nose quietly as he tasted the wine on her lips.

His hands found her sides and he began to caress her back and her neck, holding her against him. He pulled himself back: "You do know that Eve, well Eve wore nothing in the garden of Eden before her fall. Do you consent to... to pose nude for me? I know it is not an easy thing to commit to. I must confess though, I had hoped you would allow yourself to do so even before I asked you to model for me. You are the perfect image for the perfect woman." He kissed her again and awaited her answer.

The small amount of red wine she had consumed magnified the extent of his touch, but only half clouded her judgment. Alessandra was very much aware of her actions as she sinfully indulged herself with every contact his lips made against her, with every stroke of his hand against the soft velvet of her dress. He had that effect on her, the one that threw out any sort of moral teaching she had ever learned and allowed her to shamelessly commit herself to their agreement. Perhaps the wine had served as the last bit of reassurance she needed to go through with her words. It had given her the confidence and boldness she needed to finally consent to an act she knew was offensive—at least in the eyes of her family. He made all of these concerns appear minute.

“I am aware,” she replied timidly, wondering why the thought made her feel slightly uncomfortable. After all, was she not born stripped of these fabrics invented by man? It was the most natural state a human could attain, the closest they could be to being as God had created man. Then it became clear to her. Society had placed these norms and expectations to prevent these situations from happening. It was put in place so women like Alessandra who came from nobility become uncomfortable with the idea of nudity resulting in an attempt to instill abstinence. And yet, some women paid this no mind. Perhaps they were the educated ones.

“Swear to me on the holy bible you will not tell a soul,” she whispered, letting the air of her breath tickle his lips as her eyes peered into his. “Give me your word and I am yours.” There was a faint blush in her cheeks, but she was confident in her decision. It had finally been made and she had no intentions on turning back.

A myriad of thoughts passed through Ciro's head and a kaleidoscope of mental images passed through his mind. She was aware and she was still agreeing. She would bare herself and her naked skin for him. Excitement rose in his heart. He could feel her breath on his lips and smell the sweet scent of wine and fruit on her breath. He inhaled deeply to clear his mind.

He looked down into her eyes, her hair was beautiful nest of curls, just slightly out of place. Her whisper brushed against his lips and he knew their fates were bound together. He became intensely concentrated and earnest, he had enjoyed the kissing and the affection they were showing for one another. He wanted to assure her that his promise was as strong as the stone he had been carving.

"Signora, Alessandra, I swear upon the bible and my own immortal soul that I will tell no-one that you are my model. I must add that I will tell no-one that you are also my muse and my inspiration. Without you, there would be no project. This truly would have failed had you not agreed to be my muse, my inspiration. It is your beauty I will capture and people will all believe that Eve had come back from heaven, just for me."

He smiled. He repressed his strong urge to descend upon her with more kisses. He wanted her to know that he took her seriously. He wanted to see it in her eyes, to see her understand. After she would acknowledge his oath he would see where the evening took him.

His words brought a smile to her wine stained lips and she deeply hoped from the bottom of her heart that he meant them. Alessandra was sacrificing so much to be there with him, even going as far to betray her father so Ciro may have his completed masterpiece. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she would burn in the fiery pits of hell for allowing her virgin body to serve as a model to be gazed upon by dishonorable men. And not just model, but to model in the nude. She could try to justify it anyway she liked, but at the end of the day, she was still committing the sin that would send her there.

And for some reason, it hadn’t bothered her like it had before. Perhaps because she had spent an ample amount of time pondering the subject, becoming familiar with all of her options as well as his. This was what she had been sent to do, to serve as his muse and his inspiration. She was going to embody Eve, as he manifested her being into the marble stone. She was honored he had thought so highly of her and his words of praise only helped her fulfill this passion she had for this task.

"You are worthy of such an honor, even if your work is never acknowledged. Know that it will be one of the greatest pieces I shall ever set my eyes upon for as long as I shall live. Your talent is worthy of a thousand muses far more beautiful than I and the kindness you have showed me shall never be forgotten," she whispered into his mouth before closing the distance between their lips.

She kissed him softly and tenderly, and one of her hands cupped his face, embracing it in her hands. "To this day I do not know why you chose me, why fate has brought me here, but I know it will serve a greater purpose than what I can understand right now."

Ciro nodded and sighed. He was so elated to have her agree, but it came with a cost: there was an added sense of pressure and importance. He realized that she was more than just a muse to him, something that filled his stomach with butterflies and tied his intestines in knots.

"You've really done it now Ciro, you poor fool." Ciro thought to himself.

Ciro had to return to his work or he would never break the embrace she had on him and he would be helpless to restrain himself. With a great effort he sat up and smiled to her. He took her by the hand and decided the best thing he could do to quench the heat in himself is to show her the cool feeling of the stone and how she would be outlined.

He placed her warm hands against the cool stone and told her how she was to be made out into stone. He would rub her hands over the stone in the place her legs would be and he would tell her how he would carve the soft curves of her calves and her thighs. He patted the area where where her backside was to jut out, just slightly in a provocative and yet innocent manner. He placed her hands where the back would be. The smooth marble was cool to the touch, and smooth in many of the places.

Ciro wanted to see her nude figure before him, but after the kissing and touching he was concerned he would never get his work done for the distraction of it. He sighed to himself and chuckled. "Many men would sell their souls to Beelzebub himself just for an opportunity to have the dilemma that is before me" he thought to himself. He was grateful to God for the opportunity, he just hoped that temptation didn't ruin them both.

Alessandra sensed some hesitation in him, as though he was preoccupied with other thoughts to worry about what she had been saying. Her gaze followed him as he pulled away from her. She too sat up and an immediate blush fell over her cheeks. Had she overstepped her boundaries? Had she said too much? She wondered if she had offended him by her words, or if it had been her actions that had been unwanted.

Her eyes fell to his hand as they took hers, guiding her towards the marble stone. Once there, she remained as silent as ever as her eyes eagerly watched his hands lead hers, making her touch where he imagined her form to appear from the stone. He made her touch different places where he imagined planned to manifest her anatomy from the cold stone beneath her fingertips. When her eyes found his, she stared deeply into their depth, wondering if he had fantasized about her nude figure. He must have if he had calculated every groove, every curve of her figure.

Alessandra felt her face grow hot from the arousal this had brought her. She swallowed hard, having felt as though a lump was growing at her throat. She heard his chuckled and her eyebrows pushed together in mild confusion. Instinctively, she gently slid her hand away from his, bringing it to rest at her side.

"I shall let you continue, then," she said flatly, turning away from him as she started towards the couch again. She regretted ever having kissed him, ever showing any sense of emotion towards him. It was a sin in itself having consented to serve as his muse, but to show any sort of intimacy towards him only made it seem more immoral. Again she took her seat on the couch, staring blankly at the floor before her gaze met his, waiting for his instruction. By then the small buzz she had gotten from the wine seemed to go away, and she felt her thoughts had become more clear. She would have to remind herself of her purpose for being there.

Ciro saw the clouded haze that had come over them begin to disburse. He was both disappointed in himself and how he handled it, and somewhat relieved. Had he taken her, he may very well have risked everything, for both of them. He was so close to being unable to control him that he almost outwardly sighed with relief. His body had wanted every last inch of hers, to possess her entirely. To kiss her until she cried out and then to love her. That was a sin and he was tempted. So far he had restrained himself, but he knew that the haze of kissing and wine would return one day. One day soon. Would he be able to help himself? He didn't know. If he was unable to restrain and they were damned, so be it. That was for another day.

Ciro chipped the stone from the areas he designated to be the legs, hips and waist. They seemed comically oversized, but he had to ensure that there was enough stone to work down and then polish. He chipped the stone away until there was a rounded form, making out the telltale profile of Alessandra's lower body. Hopefully her own form was not something she was embarrassed of. Like the rest of her, her shape was perfect and he wanted to capture it accurately. Perhaps he may have to get closer to her nude frame once they were ready to get into the detail. Ciro hope that was the case.

The early morning haze shed just a hint of light into the house. Ciro helped Alessandra up from her perch on the sofa. She looked somewhat sullen to Ciro. Like he had, in some way, rejected her. He helped her into her cloak and walked with her to a place a block or two short of where he had left her the previous evening. Before she could walk away he wrapped hims arms around her chest, just underneath the swell of her breasts, lifting them up slightly. He kissed the back of her neck.

He whispered softly into her ear, barely audible: "Thank you for agreeing to be my muse and thank you for your affection. I fear it is a powerful way to distract us from our intentions. I want you to know it was out of respect that I separated us, but I enjoyed every last kiss." Then he brought her to the place they had separated the morning prior. He dared not turn her around for a kiss, in case someone was watching, but he wanted to. Desperately.

The rest of the time that she had spent perched on the couch she had cursed herself over and over for having spoken so openly to him. It was not how the daughter of a nobleman should have behaved. He had rejected her advances, and rightfully so. She was completely out of line for displaying herself as though she was some common harlot. Why she had driven herself to that point, she hadn’t the slightest idea—she couldn’t entirely blame her actions on half a glass of wine. No, there were deeper-rooted sentiments she couldn’t explain. Alessandra thought about not coming again, the humiliation was far to great to show herself again. She couldn’t look at him.

Until the early morning, she forced herself to glance around the room, picking up tiny details around her just to avoid looking at him. She stared at the floor, her expression blank as she noticed minute signs of erosion; she counted the number of stones on the wall, anything so she wouldn’t have to face the humiliation. Dawn couldn’t soon enough.

She remained silent as he wrapped her cloak around her, resisting the urge to thank him but did so anyway out of respect. She didn’t speak the entire way to where he took her every night after their meeting, but she had noticed he had stopped a few blocks short of where her drop off point had been. She thought about asking him why he had stopped, but immediately thought against it. She was perfectly capable of continuing on her own from here. Before she could walk away, she felt herself being restrained. He could do whatever he wanted to her at that moment. She could disappear and no one would ever know of her whereabouts. This had of course startled her slightly and she held her breath as he spoke, her heart thudding violently against her chest as his lips grazed the back of her neck.

Alessandra’s eyes scanned the darkness before her. She didn’t know what to think. He said she her actions had been distracting and of course he wouldn’t want to jeopardize anything—after all, it was food on his table. She found this had annoyed her even more, despite the fact that he said he had enjoyed every last kiss. It didn’t matter to her. She would never allow herself to be looked at in that light again. She was the daughter of Senator Augustin Lorenzo Caratini, not some silly commoner.

She said nothing. She had nothing to say to him as they walked to where they had departed every night leading up until that moment.

"Goodbye Signore," she whispered curtly, but showing no emotion in her tone. Alessandra had been humiliated enough. At that moment, she wondered if that would be the last time she ever saw him again. She had no intentions of returning to him. She was too prideful to face him again after what had happened. She would go to the cathedral when the sun finally rose and she would beg for forgiveness for ever having come to his place, for allowing herself to get carried away with a man who was neither her lover nor her betrothed.

Off in the distance, she could see her residence against the smokey gray-blue of the predawn sky. The servants would start to rise from their beds at any moment to begin the early morning chores. It was at this time every day that she had been panicked to return into her own safe chambers. This time, she felt indifferent. She was neither panicked nor eager, despite being upset with the man behind her.

Ciro heard the curt tone of Alessandra's voice and sighed to himself. He had offended her. She did not deserve that and now he did not know what to do. She had wandered off, sullen and silent. He went back to consider what he had done. Was it him? Was it her? He did not know, he just knew that he slowed them down and she took offense. Perhaps it was her sense of guilt or perhaps it was the reaction to being rejected. Ciro went back to his workshop and he knelt at the feet of the statue.

If anyone were to see the statue it would look like a rock with some large pieces taken out of one side. What Ciro saw, however, was Alessandra. Now it was her body, her eyes and her grace that lived within the stone. She was the muse. He had to let her out. He fell down onto his knees and prayed that she would return. He wanted to finish his work, certainly, but there was something else. He wanted redemption in the eyes of Alessandra. He wanted her to know that he cared about her as much as he cared about the statue.

It had taken her all the courage in the world to leave him because part of her did feel terrible for abandoning the project without giving him proper notice. She eventually decided that she would let him know, but not at that moment. She would find another way, perhaps in a letter. She could have Tomas deliver it to him so she never had to see him again. So quietly and without another word, she made her way back up to her father’s land, not allowing herself to glance behind to see if he was gone.

Alessandra slept for two hours. The thought of Ciro had kept her up the remainder of the morning. She had gotten out of bed earlier than when the maids usually woke her and had her own dress picked out all before her caretaker had come in to check on her. She was helped into the creme satin gown as she and the woman exchanged a few words. Alessandra had not been in the mood to talk, but out of respect she chatted with her about her father’s latest plans for the annual celebration to commemorate another year completed as senator to the region of Naples and on what the woman was planning to wear. The woman then told her that she had over heard her mother speaking about a potential suitor they had found for her, but Alessandra said nothing on the matter--the only person she could think about was Ciro. She then went to the drawing room where she scribbled a short letter for Ciro in her curly handwriting. It was vague, but very much to the point basically stating that she was deeply sorry as she was not able to complete the project as his model. She said nothing more on the matter, but did say that it had come to the attention of her father and that he forbade her to return. She gave the woman the letter and asked that it be given to Tomas for delivery.

Eventually she had made it to the church and she went to confession. Though she had not specific to the extent of her sins, she had said enough where she hoped her soul could still be saved. The priest then gave her instructions. He told her to pray so many Hail Mary's and our Fathers that she knew had she been completely truthful, she would have been there all day in prayer. Alessandra thanked him then knelt before the eyes of God to do as she was told. Never again would she go back to see Ciro and with time, she would make herself forget it even happened.

A few days passed and the household was busy preparing food and cleaning the home for the festivities. Flowers had been imported to adorn the hall and her mother had purchased several large candelabra to bring more light into the room. Alessandra had spent quite the majority of her time with her sisters, acting as though everything had gone back to normal. She never spoke a word about Ciro or how she had gone in the middle of the night to see him for his now unfinished work. For a moment she wondered if he had found anther model, but then pushed the thought from her mind for the rest of the afternoon. The girls were then fitted into their new gowns, made especially for the evening's event before they bathed and started getting ready for their father's arrival. He was set to arrive an hour before their guests, just to spend time with his family and everyone around her had grown more anxious as the time seemed to tick away.

And just as expected, he had arrived and Alessandra threw herself onto him, welcoming him as though it had been years she had seen the regal man. He kissed the three girls and then finally greeted her mother. They had chatted about his trip and his future plans for Naples, and she felt as though her spirits had been lifted. She had missed him so deeply and she was glad to have him there at her side. When the sun had finally set, the guests had started to arrive. The majority of the evening she had spent chatting with some of the other senators and residents her father had wanted to introduce her to but eventually she did wander off into the sea of guests to find another way of entertaining herself.

Alessandra did not return the next day. He thought to himself that he needed to give her time. He spent the night working in a fervor or regret and desire to concentrate on something else. He had formed the basic block of Alessandra and her form into the stone. He had chiseled out where he arms, legs waist, hips torso and head would be. Everything after that was refinement. He knew that he would have to do the Adam portion of the statue at some point, but couldn't think of an inspiration for that at the time. He decided to round down the block to the point that at least it was shaped. He started to work on it and eventually went to sleep on the sofa.


The day after that he received a letter. It was from Alessandra. There was no way to reach her and she has more or less told him that she was no longer going to finish the project. Ciro was devastated. He wanted to die. He had sent away the most beautiful woman in all of Naples and he was a fool. It took him 2 days to consume anything other than wine or ale. He was in a drunken stupor for most hours of the day. When he wasn't drunk he would hammer the Adam portion of the marble, just to increase the intensity of his hangover. The pain was enough to keep him awake long enough to go to the pub afterwards. Soon he would have nothing. It took three days for Ciro to regain his sobriety. He slept 19 hours after the final drinking binge and woke up in a gutter. He decided he had to do something or he would go broke and have a merchant consider having him killed. Instead he began his hunt for a new model, but every time he found someone he thought appropriate he would compare them to Alessandra. There was no comparison. No-one was as suited to the project as she. In despair he went back and began carving Adam. It was the least he could do for the time being.

Alessandra wandered through the crowd, greeting familiar faces here and there, and occasionally exchanging a few words. Her father had found her not long after and introduced her to the man that many believed was to be her betrothed. She stared into his dark eyes, watching as he kissed the top of her hand. Her father had been watching them through the corner of his eyes, smiling broadly in approval as he chatted with the man’s father. Alessandra spoke with him briefly, but their conversation was short and curt, and though she tried to stay as alert, her mind was wandering elsewhere. There was no way her mind was going to rest unless she went and saw Ciro again. Alessandra excused herself shortly after and slipped through the crowd until she was in outside of the residence.

It hadn’t taken her long to arrive at the studio and she hesitated to knock on his door. The entire way she was trying to think of reasons as to why she should have returned home, but her concern for him outweighed her selfish reasoning. She had to be considerate of him. She had to offer him a fair explanation. Inhaling softly, she knocked on his door.

Ciro wandered weakly to the door. He had been living on wine and beer for the last three days. He had made some progress with the Adam portion of the statue. He had the body chiseled out roughly. He was now at a crossroads. He needed a model for Eve and he intended to use himself as Adam so that he and Alessandra were paired together forever after the statue was gone. He was beginning to think it was time to consider something or someone else. Perhaps he would go and find an Adam.

He walked to the door, placed his hands on the ring to pull it open when he heard a knock. He opened the door and looked right into the eyes of Alessandra. His heart stopped for a moment. She was there, in front of him. At least he had an opportunity to say something to her, to see her one last time.

He closed his eyes looking for the words. Words were never his specialty. He was good with his hands, good with stone and good with tools. He was a craftsman, after all.

Finally he was able to get his mouth moving and the words "I am so very, very sorry. I never wanted you to go and I have missed you terribly." came out. He smiled sadly, knowing he got the important part out. If she was just coming to say she would never be back in person, he would at least be satisfied that he got to tell her how much he cared and how bad he felt. A flutter of hope that she might come back rattled in his gut, but he couldn't say anything. He stared into Alessandra's eyes, taking in her radiant beauty. If this was the last time he was to see her, he wanted to see her properly.

Alessandra waited anxiously by the door, tapping her foot lightly from the nerves. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to him. Of course she would come with the truth, that she could no longer serve as his model--she just didn't know why. Sure, she had been offended, thrown herself out to him only to be denied. So then why had she come back? Was she not humiliated enough? She couldn't tell him the truth without making herself look like an unreliable wench. Being the noble she was, it had been very inappropriate of her to behave that way in the first place.

When the door opened, she knew exactly what to say. Unfortunately, he had started speaking before she got the chance to. Inhaling softly, she held her breath as she waited for him to finish. Much to her surprise, he had apologized for something she knew well was her fault.

Her clear eyes scanned him. He looked tired and gaunt, as though he hadn't slept in days and had consumed his weight in alcohol. Alessandra felt a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach and she hoped it hadn't interfered with his work. Her eyes averted to the floor just before glancing back into his eyes. "You need not apologize. It was my fault for being so inappropriately forward and for that you have my deepest apologies. I will never make such crude advances again," she blushed, feeling belittled by her apology.

"I left my father's festivities to let you know," she added, suggesting that was the reason she had been dressed so ornately. Alessandra chose her words carefully, despite knowing no one was of earshot from them in the small alley.