1

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height


ONE


"-ALSO, don't forget that Bruce locks down the place at eleven. Clean up and lock this door before you leave, okay?"

I hum in response and give Elle a thumbs up with my unoccupied hand while focusing all my attention on the sculpture in front of me, smoothing out the edges with the pads of my fingertips. I hear the heel of her shoes clack against the uneven floor tiles as she walks away, leaving me and a room full of sculptures alone.

I huff the strands of hair that've been sticking onto the sides of my face away and twist my back slightly to the side, enough to make it crack. I shove my sculpture aside and close my eyes, letting out a jaded sigh.

I've been sculpting for almost eight hours and completely worn out to the point that I'm getting bored of looking at my own work, and irritated of feeling the bits clay that are inhabiting inside my fingernails.

I push my stool back and reach over to the scattered tools on the table, gathering them all in my hands. I place them in their containers and put them away onto the shelves along with my sculpture and the scraps of clay. I wipe my muddy hands on my tattered jeans and grab my backpack from off the floor.

I should've just left with Elle.

I turn the lock on the door and close it behind me. From the side of my eye, I notice the lights of the showcase from across the hall are still on, which is strange because Bruce usually turns those lights off after the last class of the day walks out of the building.

Walking towards the display, the rubber of my sneakers grate on the waxy floor into a dense echo. I look into the showcase and see a few framed photographs, a couple of pottery vases and bowls, and an art painting. I never gave much attention to the displayed pieces in the showcase, that is until today. All my attention is drawn to that one painting.

I lean my hands against the glass to get a closer look. The piece is a painting of a black and white butterfly transforming into a naked woman. The woman's body is filled with such color that each part of her body is different hue. It's a simple painting but the way the woman and the butterfly are illustrated is unbelievable. I squint my eyes to try to find the name of the artist, but the corners of the painting are bare of any signature.

"What do you think?"

My knuckles hit the glass as I jerk my hands up, causing the glass to rattle. The tips of my sneakers bang against the base of the showcase and a hollowed gasp parts out at the sudden voice behind me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," A large pair of hands clutch my forearms from behind and hold me from falling. I shrug their hands off me and vaguely move to the side. I turn to see a man with furrowed eyebrows and a slacked face, darting his eyes around my figure in concern, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah...I'm fine. I just thought no one would be here this late." I awkwardly laugh, pinching the straps of my backpack.

I note that the stranger's loose fitting clothes is tainted with dry paint and his hands have a rusty shade to them. Unlike his attire, his shoes are spotless almost as if he had barely put them on. His willowy body hovers over me and I can smell the antique easels that are generally found in the painting classrooms.

I look at the stranger's face. He's attractive in a rough sort of way, but he's much older than me, I can tell by his prominent cheekbones and elongated face shape. The showcase's lights gleam towards his face and I catch a glimpse of a small scratch on the high point of his cheek and a partial view of light wrinkles on his forehead, before a strand of his hair fall down across. His hair is a shadowy tone of brown like his eyes and his short-trimmed beard is a much darker shade.

He clears his throat and I quickly blink a couple of times, and direct my look towards the display.

"The painting, do you like it?" His voice is thicker and gravelly than before. I fix my gaze back at him.

"It's beautiful," His smile lines carve deeper into his face as he gives me a toothy smile. I shyly grin, "It's cool what people can create with their hands."

"I'm Sebastian," He cleans his hand on his t-shirt and then offers me it.

"Vanessa," I take his hand and shake it. His hand feels rugged and is monster-like in size compared to my lissome hand. We stop shaking, but our hands linger together a bit longer than needed to. I yank my arm and thrust my hand into the back pocket of my jeans.

"UMC student?" Sebastian asks, abrupt, after the uncomfortable handshake.

He raises his arm to scratch the back of his neck and stares at his shoes, looking anywhere but at me. He pulls the collar of his shirt down, allowing me to get a peek of a tattoo, before it hides behind his hand as it moves along to scratch the side of his neck. I press my lips together and stealthy peer over my shoulder and then back to him.

I shake my head, "No, my dad is an art instructor here and he likes to keep me busy after school. I'm still in high school, sadly."

Sebastian chortles at the last sentence and his eyes crinkle. Shaking my head in silent laughter, I rock on the balls of my feet, feeling on edge under Sebastian's presence for some reason. Maybe because someone like him is talking to someone like me. Or maybe, it looks wrong.

"So, what are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be home by now?" He asks, but it doesn't sound much like a question. The words sound monotonous, almost like it's been pre-rehearsed.

Before I can reply, he pats down his front pockets and takes out a container of gum, sort of Tic Tac looking. He shakes a piece out for himself and nudges the container towards me. I take the last piece and pop it into my mouth, turning around so that I'm standing in front of the showcase again.

"I was working on a sculpture that I'm behind on. I'm not going to get it done on time so I have to stay after hours. What are you doing here this late?" I chew on the gum and turn over to Sebastian with an eyebrow raised at him. He grins at my accusing tone and pushes his hair back.

"Same as you, but I was working on a painting I needed to get done. Finally did after long hours."

"Lucky. My goal was to finish the sculpture by tonight, but I couldn't wait to get back to my bed." I inanely laugh, but suddenly find it hard to carry out the laughter. I dryly cough into my elbow, but it only makes my throat feel stiff and narrow. Suddenly, my breathing becomes short and my eyes water as I noiselessly gasp fo more air.

Sebastian is quiet, and I look over to him with glossy eyes. There's a tight smile on his features and beads of sweat glistening along side his face underneath the light. He briefly makes eye contact, but quickly darts his eyes down both ends of the hallway. I blink away the tears and look down at his hands and see him crushing his piece of gum along with packet in his fist.

"Are you okay?" I ask in a tight voice, the words barely coming out.

I take a step towards him, but my kneecaps lock in and my legs sway to the side, making me loose my balance. I try to grip the corners of the showcase but the muscles in my hands shock in place.

As I slowly loose balance, I frantically look for help, however, my vision is hazy and the hallway spins. I mumble incoherent words while trying to call out for help, but my tongue feels thick and heavy. I'm too weak and confused to understand what's happening.

In a blur, I see Sebastian reach out for me and pull me up onto his chest. I attempt to shove him away, but he tightens his hold on my waist and tosses my arms over his shoulders. My head thumps against his shoulder as we walk and my feet drag behind.

"I'm sorry." He says to me softly as my eye sight blackens.

Suddenly, my body falls onto a plush seat and I feebly open my eyes. I'm no longer looking at the dusty ceiling fans and cloudy lights of the art department, but at the ceiling of a vehicle. I open my mouth and force coherent words out.

"St...stop."

"It's all going to be okay."

I should've just left with Elle.



━━━━━━

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net