PAINTER'S MODEL

08: ART EXHIBIT

CHAPTER 8: ART EXHIBIT

Before spitting it out into the sink, you gargled on the water inside your mouth. It's Monday, once again. Wrapping a towel around your hair, you thought back on the events that happened during the weekend. 

Just as Calvin promised, you have been driven back home early in the morning by the driver he hired on Sunday, which was yesterday. You basically forgot to inform Lois about your whereabouts, and turns out your phone was kept silent, so you weren't aware of any of it. 

By the time you went home, Lois was almost in tears when he saw you enter through the door. He said that he was about to call the cops and he literally gave you bonk on the head with a pillow for being forgetful. Anyways, you were able to explain everything to him, though, he was still left worried.

He was worried about Calvin's perspective on you. That attractive, talented, yet strange man. When you told Lois about Calvin letting you eat dinner at his home and even sleep for the night at his very own house, Lois was flabbergasted. It was strange for a man like Calvin to act this way since he's usually depicted as a person who demands people to respect his personal bubble, but here he is, inviting you to his home and even asking you to do another artwork with him, and must he say, a sexy sort of art piece.

I mean, from what you explained to him, you were wearing a dress that shows your thighs and cleavage, in a dark room with nothing but candles to make you see, and it's just the both of you in that little room. Lois felt a pang of jealousy in him when he heard that. But you're lucky you didn't mention the part where you noticed Calvin staring right at your cleavage, otherwise, Lois would go bonkers. 

And now, here you are with a tired expression, trying to dry off the water from your hair, with your boyfriend lightly pounding on the door. "(Y/NNN)...." He whined. When Lois knew that he was envious of that man, he felt insecure about himself, and here he is, being clingy. "I want a hug." He cooed.

"I'm still in my towel!" You exclaimed. "Then hurry up," Lois grew impatient. You groaned and hastily put on the clothes that were laid on the countertop. Before Lois could knock on the bathroom door, you opened it, letting Lois who was leaning against it, fall down. 

Fortunately, he was prepared for that fall. Bringing his knee up and his whole body back in standing position, he tackled you into a bear hug. "I miss you.." He mumbled. This is a usual thing to see from Lois. 

You remember the time you went on a date with your boyfriend. Long story short, the waiter serving you keep staring at you, and even tried to use a pick-up line in front of your boyfriend. Lois glared at the waiter every time he comes to your table, and once you left the restaurant, he was very clingy towards you similar to how he is right now.

Anyways, yesterday, the both of you watched a movie which is "Dead Poet's Society." Movie nights or any other cozy activity at home is a way for Lois to spend more time with you since you were out with a man the other day. It might've also lessened his jealousy too. That was what you did the entire day yesterday, and here he is, wanting to spend more time with you once again. 

You don't have any plans for today since your agency has not called you for anything or scheduled you for anything today. Lois dug his face deeper in between your breasts as he hummed, "Let's bake cookies today!" An idea popped into his head.

"Come on," He tugged your hand, pulling you downstairs and into the kitchen. He brought out ready-to-bake cookies, the ones that usually require oil, eggs, and stuff like that since the dough is all ready.  

You decided to work on preparing the ingredients and placing them into the big bowl. You poured the cookie mix, cracked an egg, and cautiously poured it in, trying to not let any eggshells get into it, some water, and oil. You mixed it all together, and Lois helped you with mixing it all into dough thoroughly. Then, both of you placed a scoop and flattened pieces of the dough into a cookie tray. 

After making sure that the oven is heated, you started to set the timer to 16 minutes and your boyfriend placed it in. Lois clapped his hands together and brought you into a hug, "yayyy," he mumbled and chuckled. 

A ringing sound stopped the lovey-dovey moment you have there. You tried to find the source and turns out there was an incoming call from your phone. You checked the name and it was Calvin Doris. You immediately picked it up, "This is (Y/N) (L/N) speaking," You introduced.

"Ah (Y/N)! How are you doing this fine morning?" Calvin's voice was audible from your phone. You glanced at your boyfriend who seems to be throwing hand gestures into the air, he mouthed, "Put it on speaker."

You did as told, now allowing the both of you to hear what Calvin wants to do with you today. "I'm doing fine, Mr. Doris." You replied. You switched your attention from Lois to your phone. "Doing well, I see. I have called you to invite you to an art exhibit of mine."

"It will be on Saturday. Hopefully, you don't have any plans during that day since I wish for you to be there. The painting I made of you is featured in the museum, it would be nice for the subject to view the painting of herself, right?" Calvin said. You widened your eyes, "Certainly! I don't have any plans this Saturday so I guess I could go." 

"Wonderful–!" He was about to say something though you couldn't focus on it anymore since Lois walked up to you, leaning into your ear. "Please let me go with you." He whispered with doe eyes. 

"Hello?" Calvin voiced out. "Ah, um, would it be alright if my boyfriend would go with me to the art gallery?" You asked. You fiddled with your fingers in your non-dominant hand. 

You couldn't hear anything for almost ten seconds. This time it's your turn to ask if a person is still on the line, "Mr. Doris?" 

"Sure. Your boyfriend can go." Luckily, the way you communicate with one another does not require seeing each other's faces. You couldn't see how Calvin said those words with gritted teeth. "The more, the merrier," He used a famous saying, trying to hide his animosity.