Nail Art

Room of Mysteries

Chapter 5- The Room of Mysteries

Strangely enough, I did a pretty good job at hiding from him. My weird rational instincts got the best of me when I found a papier-mâché vase lying on the table next to me and decided to carry it to cover up my face.

I seriously did not want to see him at this time. Because a) there was something fishy about the ‘mark’ he left on my arm, and b) I was well aware of any possible mishap that may happen that may cause to my beanie getting removed from my head and revealing my blank spaced scalp, thanks to Denver.

“I have a guest, just bring those boxes at the storage.” Says Ingrid. It sort of bothers me that a nice old lady spends most of her days stuck here with a guy like Heph; he’s nasty, strikingly gorgeous, but nevertheless nasty. But what’s nastier is realizing that this vase isn’t even papier-mâché, but actual wood.

I heard what just sounded like a grunt and hard, heavy footsteps leaving the room. Then the footsteps stopped abruptly.

“And this guest is?” I’m a bit surprised that he would ask, I don’t really know why.

“Leaving.” I tell them while lowering the sound of my voice hoping he wouldn’t recognize me. I actually really was planning to leave, but Ingrid beat me to it and pulled me aside into a tiny room. I may have escaped Heph for now, but now my yet unsolved problem is how to make this old woman let me go.

“Now where were we before my rude assistant came in?” said Ingrid.

“Assistant? Heph works here?”

“Helps. I don’t pay him to do anything.” She said ‘pay’ like I just insulted her ancestors or something.

Letting go of the subject, she pulled out a chair from underneath a round, yellow table and gestured for me to sit down and I did.

Across the table near the end where she sat was little brown box, which looks like one of those tiny treasure chests you see in pirate movies, except it was daintily designed and a bit too dusty.

She opened the box with a look on her face, like she was greeting an old friend or something. And when she pulled out set of nail cleaning essentials, then I realized that maybe this box wasn’t that great after all.

She held out her hand and I got a bit confused.

“Oh right, the manicure.” I say and finally let her just do her thing.

 After quite some time..

I'm actually glad to see her so happy, even though I don't even really know this old woman.

Finally I took my turn and looked at my nails. Immediately, I knew what she was going Picasso on about.

They were beautiful. I mean despite my dull and pale skin, I never thought it would such a great pleasure to look at my own hands. No matter how weird that might sound like. I never knew nail art could be this breathtaking and effulgent.

The base colour was simply blue, like the ocean is. The shade then becomes white at the tips; shiny and lustrous bright, like the pearls me and my dad use to find inside seashells when I was a kid. But my favourite parts were the most extraordinary things about the nails: each nail had its own unique and special petal from a flower of different kinds, fixed neatly by the colourless nail polish. But it was undeniable, each one looked stunningly gorgeous.

Maybe I was out of my mind for a moment, but if my phone didn’t ring at exactly that moment, I might have just sat there gawking at my nails the whole afternoon.

Carefully, I tried ever so gently to open my sling bag which is over my shoulder this whole time, and carefully take my phone out, making sure my nails don’t get ruined.

I unlocked my phone and found a text message and a missed call from Denver.

“Oh my goodness. Denver!” I didn’t even think twice when I stood up and almost head out the door without another word. I was already at the doorway going out, when I turned to Ingrid, “I’m so sorry. I’ve lost track of the time, but Ingrid, thank y-”. I looked everywhere in the room. From where she was sitting, Ingrid was gone.

Ok, either I was just being an idiot and didn’t notice her leave, or she was just really fast old lady. I was destined to grow up to be an adult to have children and lose them while wandering around in supermarkets. Ay me.

Now I’m not going to pretend like I have the slightest clue about how much manicures cost because clearly that’s not my thing, so to thank Ingrid, I left a 5-dollar bill on the counter which I assumed to be the cashier register. I walked out in rush out of the vintage shop slash salon.

I forgot about Heph when all of a sudden a big hand held my left elbow in a very unpleasant manner, if I might add.

“Why are you here?” the deep timbre of his voice speaking to me sounded like a lover’s caress and a bucket of ice cold water at the same time.

I almost get lost in the dark orbs he considers to be his eyes once again when I remember that I don’t have time to re-enact a scene from *insert cliché love story movie title here where girl fawns over somehotguy who is way out of her league here*. Failing in trying to get my arm free from this guy’s grip, I straighten up and think, ‘what the heck’. Looking him straight in the eye without fainting is like being drowned in classical music while solving large mathematical equations. Difficult and distracting, yet mysteriously endearing, and even when you don’t admit it, you don’t want to get the problem solved just to keep the music playing.

But I still think I should turn the music off now.

“It’s a shop, new guy, not a VIP section to a club, now excuse me.” I said trying to keep my voice firm.

But he didn’t let go. “Don’t get smart with me, what is your purpose for coming here?”

“Why do you care?” I tell him. Seriously, this is too time-consuming, as much as I want to stay and enjoy this person’s company (note sarcasm).

What I said wasn’t much, but hey, it did make him let go of my arm. “Oh crap.” I say out loud. He touched me again. I remember the last time that happened.

“What?” He says without answering my question earlier, our eyes oddly, not in an awkward way, fixated on each other.

Looking away, I remember I really must go, “You didn’t answer me. But in all seriousness, I need to leave anyway, I have a friend waiting.”

I notice that he’s being really mature now, since he blocked the doorway. This guy really needs to get a life. I took a deep breath and try to relax myself because this guy is the annoying gorgeous person I’ve ever met, and while doing so, is also giving me breathing problems.

“You didn’t answer me!” Woah, easy-going, I like it. “If I find out what this it is you’re up to, I swear to you,” His voice became way too deep saying those last words, not to mention chilling, “you’ll wish I gave you another burnt mark instead.”

And that did it. I freaked out and out of panic, I did what any normal day-to-day citizen of this country would do if ever threatened: self-defence. I wasted no time and after he, let’s call it “got distracted”, I ran and headed out the door and never looked back.

As much as I think he was built to be every girl’s dream guy, I still hope that hitting him with that mahogany vase in the face did enough damage.

I immediately found Denver when I came around back and returned to where I lost him. I didn’t even know I had tears in my eyes, I hyperventilated. All I could think was thank goodness Denver is here. He brought me home and comforted me on the way in silence, with the promise that I will tell him everything tomorrow, although I wouldn’t count on the possibility that he wouldn’t find it hard to believe.

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allPURPLEPrincess J