An exploded heart.
Yes, that’s what it is.
“I don’t see it.” He was tall, handsome and looked at the painting with a pair of eyes that would have made any girl swoon. Good thing she wasn’t just any girl.
She did not even turn her head. Her eyes were stuck to the mess of paint that hung before her. She said mess, because really that’s what it was, but it wasn’t a bad mess. Actually, it was quite wonderful. Something she would love to see hanging on her own wall. Too bad she didn’t have her own walls to hang wonderful paintings on. And Louisa would definitely not let her hang it. Those weren’t her walls to expand with beautiful colors.
She realized the man was still standing next to her, probably waiting for an answer. Or maybe just admiring her silhouette. Her face. Her dress. It was all really quite stunning and this was not the first male gaze she had received this evening.
She almost felt bad for him, she was really not in the mood to create a new relationship. But terribly sad for him, she was in the mood to play.
“Evening star in a night sky?” She finally answered, reading the painting title out loud. “Are you sure?” she continued, “the theme of the painting is really very clear.”
Out of the corner of her eye she sensed his mouth go into a sly smile. He knew.
“You’re playing with me.” He phrased it into beautiful words. Made beautiful by his accent of course, not the words themselves. She finally had to do it. Oh well.
Yes, she succumbed. And she was quite happy she did. He really was a sight to behold. Definitely the most handsome man in the room. Yes, in the whole art gallery. You see? This is one of the reasons why she loved living in London. The men really were quite stunning. And that accent!
This felt quite comfortable. They had been staring at each other for probably two minutes, the two probably thinking of the same word. Beautiful.
But Ella was not one to be swept off her feet so easily. She liked the tricks.
“You are thirsty, I see.” She pointed with her eyes to the two champagne glasses in his hands. Ones that had been there since he had walked up to her. He didn’t even dare at playing her game. He just extended one arm. Towards her.
“One is for you.”
“Oh, thank you, but I don’t drink.” This was the truth, not only a way to stump his flirting. Ah but alas. It backfired.
“Well that’s perfect because this is mosto.” He said this as he turned once again towards the painting. His hand still extended to the side. I wonder how long it would take for him to get tired and then drop the glass. Everyone would be so shocked! She was ready to do it, but his smiling face made her realize she would not win. He was determined to play as well.
“Mosto?” She repeated as she grabbed the glass and turned to the painting as well. She was surprised that someone else knew the Spanish un-alcoholic drink. Sweeter than cider, but looked quite closely to champagne. She was intrigued now, but her brain did not want to play anymore. It just wanted to appreciate the painting. But he would not let her.
“Are you here alone?” All right then. Game on.
“Oh no, I am here with my lesbian lover.” Mosto and spit flew everywhere in front of his face. Some people even stared. Disappointment followed however. He realized quite quickly she was kidding.
“Good one.” He said as he laughed. A clunky, clownish kind of laugh which sounded so ridiculous coming from such a wondrous face. Soon enough she was laughing with him. “You timed that wonderfully.” He took another sip.
“I am here with my friend.” She pointed to Sarah who had seemed to get what she wanted. “She dragged me here so she could seduce Alicia Benning, one of the painters.”
“Ah yes,” he looked towards the two beautiful women making out in the corner, “it seems she has succeeded.”
To be continued.