Till Death (Volturi / Twilight Fanfiction)

17: Art

Volterra was beautiful, the air was clean, Taylor should've felt more at ease than she was. As it was, she felt rather anxious. Like every darkened corner held a pair of eyes following her travels through the little shops which dotted the mountain town. She felt self-conscious, and shocked at the sheer lack of spirits she saw outside the castle. It was by no means a very large city, nor did it seem particularly crime heavy, but the only spirits she saw were playful wisps about the town square or the somber waiting family members hanging living loved ones. Even they were faded. Despite her anxiety, she had a thought about something that she was usually unable to do. 

Usually, she wasn't able to be a tourist, not really, places held too many ghosts to be enjoyed. She generally avoided popular destinations and those that held historical significance but this city held virtually no spirits. She threw her new clothing in her room uncaringly before deciding to explore the town. She wanted to see the sights, explore a museum, find a theater with a foreign movie and try to follow its' plot without subtitles to guide her. Most of all she wanted what she perceived as leftover anxiety from the morning, to go away. Her parents would be out late, and even if they weren't she was an adult now. There was no reason she couldn't explore the town on her own. She felt a need to. And this need drew her to Museo Etrusco Guarnacci, a museum housing Etruscan artifacts, the people before the Romans. And an important influence on Roman culture. As Taylor entered the building she could see that plainly. 

The walls behind the artifacts were a rusted orange, which made the stone statuettes stand out beautifully in their contrast. The statues were weathered by the years but intact. Some of the vases displayed were not so lucky, missing pieces and the like. But it was all very beautiful. And, to Taylor's delight, it was all very quiet. She expected the dead to be attached to their old belongings. Stirred up by the public display of what they took in their time as mundane. They'd be confused as to why there was a need for their vases to be displayed at all, perhaps delighted as the prospect, perhaps angry. Taylor didn't know, she tended to avoid these types of places. When she was younger they went to an art museum, to say artists were close to their work was an understatement. Some really did put their souls into their pieces. Most actually. Here was different, it was peaceful. Taylor could enjoy herself.

But Taylor had yet to see the building's most intriguing work. As she turned the corner, looking down a short hallway, she saw a pair of elevator doors closing. And within? A work of art. 

Taylor rubbed her eyes. She blinked twice, trying to snap herself back to reality. She wasn't dreaming, she hadn't had a dream of her own her whole life. So, if this was real...and she wasn't dreaming...that meant that...

That meant that Marcus was here.

Without thinking she called the elevator, it came from the first floor and arrived empty. That didn't matter. She skipped inside bashing the close doors button as soon as her fingers could find it and doing the same with the first floor as well. The ride wasn't long, but it gave her a few moments to wonder what in the hell she was doing. How was he here? Did he tell her-fuck. He did, he told her he worked for a museum here! He worked for this museum! And now she was showing up like a stalker-no-no, he told her to visit. But that was like, a thing you say...he wasn't serious about it. How could he be? Nah, nah, this was his fault. It was because of him that Taylor couldn't move on with her life, couldn't date anyone, couldn't so much as enjoy the prospect of even dating Callie. When Taylor thought of anyone else it was in comparison to Marcus. Like...'ooo they're cute, but Marcus was better.' Or, 'Oh they read poetry, I wonder if Marcus is reading some right now.' 'Goodness, I wonder if things would be better if I had woke up next to him.' 

She felt like it would've been better. Almost instinctually. Which was, admittedly, a little weird. They had only known each other a day.

The elevator dinged, doors opened, and dead ahead of her was that beautiful earworm of a man she couldn't get outta her head. He was standing atop a mosaic, gesturing to the glass display in front of him as he spoke too soft for Taylor to hear. He was talking but seemed uninterested, no trace of emotion upon his profile. Not like in Greece. Nor did he seem to be putting on a professional facade. It seemed that he'd rather be anywhere else right then, it seemed he'd rather be dead. His eyes were so sad, and his movements though elegant were weighed down. As he finished speaking he looked forward to the display. The other patrons seemed to be avoiding him, satisfied with gossiping at a distance. Throwing embarrassed glances his way and then giggling when their friends caught them staring. Taylor suddenly felt the weight of the situation upon her, it was hard to breathe. But again in her time of hardship, she heard her dormmate's sage wisdom.