Untitled Ghost Story

Deep blue eyes, long blonde hair, pale pink lips painted perfectly to create the image of a young woman who was painfully beautiful, her youthful face peaceful yet her eyes stared out from her painted countenance imploringly.
Brandon Burt painted in the finishing details of the woman with a shaky hand, his eyes swimming from all the alcohol he had consumed the bottle of wine tossed in the corner. Dropping his paint brush he staggered back wards laughing softly as he listed to the side gracelessly. He glanced over at the painting and grinned a twisted, deranged grin "'Ey, babe, whas Yer numberr?" he slurred his dark hair falling over his eyes, sticking to sweaty forehead. He'd drank too much tonight. He could hear the disappointment his brother felt, his wife, his daughter, his dead mother, he was used to letting people down and those were the only people who really judged him, like he needed their judgement! Who cares what they think? He thought, picking up the painting of the young woman who stared back almost longingly at him from where she stood, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, her lips turned upward slightly. Her blue eyes burned with an intense fire that he felt he had captured perfectly even in his drunken state.