paintings on the walls (just dance story)

5.

-third person-

a few weeks had pass and there was no sign of people at the museum, which made the undead paintings happy. apparently, there was a flu outbreak that caused several of the staff to be sent home or go on lockdown to prevent the spread of the disease, leaving the paintings all by themselves. right now, they were doing their usual hobbies.

the sound of a classical violin turned into screeching as helene dropped her tea; the cup smashing onto the ground. she sighed in frustration.

"benji, has everything been okay for the last couple of days?" she asked the blond composer who hastily placed his violin on the stand. for the past couple of days, benjamin was acting weird and began to skip out on the group's gossiping and wine drinking time. was he nervous that a seemingly innocent nun-in-training was coming to the museum to learn about his death? or was he having one of his mood swings? emilia usually teased him about getting his "man-period."

"are you worried about joanna? if you are, then she's doing fine." pierre said, taking a big swig out of his wine glass. emilia lit a cigarette up and took a small drag from it.

benjamin sighed. "i'm just worried about that."

"about what?" emilia responded, placing her cigarette in the ashtray.

"you know, the resurrection."

"she'll think about that decision soon. right now, will you calm down? you haven't even spoke to the girl yet!"

"honestly, benji," helene said, cleaning up the spilled tea and the shattered cup. "i think you should go to bed for the night and let this all leave your head."

benjamin said goodnight to the three and got settled into the bed. after a few strikes of lightning, he fell asleep, dreaming about violins and a training nun.