Paris in the Rain. Niko Omilana x Reader.

The Handsome Mona Lisa

NOTE: This is all fictional work made by a fan for other fans . Listed events have some truth but have been tampered with for the <plot>.

"Damn red coat." I hiss. The words escaped my lips before my brain could fully process what exactly had been said.

"I beg your pardon?" The lanky swanky prick staring back at me in disbelief. "Have you just used a racial slur against me?"

I would feel bad if it hadn't been for his camera man laughing in the background. That action alone was enough to ease my worries.

"I sincerely apologize I just-" .. Didn't expect to be dragged all the way to France from California to have to de-escalate a situation as cartoonish as this? What ? What exactly could you possibly say to save face.

"It was a faux pa. May I suggest you be seated for a moment while my colleagues and I take a minute to ..marinate the situation please." Great .. Marinate amazing I'm a museum curator slash part time chef . I internally slap myself.

Motioning my hands to the bench a few strides behind him. My cheekbones straining from the forced smile I've been sporting since I've come into contact with this giant of a goofball.

Quickly herding the two security guards and my assistant to the nearest hallway. Before my slick wit can make another nasty appearance.

"He said he's here to appreciate art."

"It was his grandfathers work he said but unless he's a part of the squid family I don't see how this could possibly be a legitimate piece."

"He's an idiot a troll."

Each spoke in unison, mostly in French, and some broken English in consideration of my assistant and I.

"Alright we can all agree he's a menace. But what can be done?" I ask exchanging irritated glances with one another. "We are closing in 30 minutes and more than half the guest have all taken a picture of it or with it."

"Nothing to be done we call police and have him arrested and out of our site." Amory, the friendlier of all the security guards, suggests. "Too late to worry about our image it's been tarnished as of today but there is always a tomorrow."

Two quick minutes passed majority of the group have decided it has to be me to escort the influencer back to the main office to explain the outcome of his spontaneous Banksy project. Yay me!

"Send your camera man away and we will clear out the last attendees." I inform him. "What did you say your name was?"

"Niko," He said. "Niko Omilana."

"Well Niko. Sit tight, make yourself comfortable, it seems we're in for a long night." Just as I was leaving to assure the museum was empty , I snagged the Mono Lisa, handing it off to Amory before leaving the room. "I'll hold on to your masterpiece for now. We'll be back for you once the premise is entirely clear."

The clacking on my heels echoed through the corridor. I could feel his eyes burrowing into the back of my head.

Once we ensured the museum was empty of any other attendees besides ourselves. I made my way over to the hunched over figure. Sat completely still, to my surprise, any other person would have bolted the minute we got visuals off him.

Maybe he isn't as bad as his act of- I don't even know what to call it -is.

"Mr.Omilana?" I called. His legs are longer than mine he can reach me faster than I could him. "Get up and follow me please. The police will be here any moment."

"I'm not in trou-" He clears his throat. "I'm not in big trouble am I? I'm just doing this bit and trying to get my name out there really. Just taking a piss. Well if anything I'm testing your security."

"And what an amazing job they did huh." I grumble.

A short silence falls before we breakout in  giggles.

Making our way to the nearest available elevator, I notice he's taller than the average , it's a bit straining to look at him.

"You speak really fluent English most of the French here have awful accents." His eyes meet mine waiting for something.

"It's because English is my first language. I'm from the US, it's my first few days here in the Louvre." I explain how I've been assigned to look over some art pieces for Getty's exhibition. "I was nearly done signing the last of my papers until-"

"Until my dumb ass got caught up." He reaches for the elevators buttons the exact time I do.

Our fingers brushing against one another. I twitch slightly. It's all tile here I don't know how or where the little static shock came to be.

"I haven't even told you what floor we're heading to. Was this an excuse to hold my hand? Please don't be nervous." I tease. His blush reaches the tips of his ears. It must match mine. "I'm only joking. Your little prank threw my coworkers and I into a shit of a twist, it's only fair I have my own fun too. Press 8."

Once the doors opened we both made our way to opposite corners of the elevator.

"You've got to admit it was a pretty ingenious plan no?" His confidence must have dissipated with the public, his posture isn't as solid as it was during our first encounter. It's endearing.

"Are you asking me ? Or is this your passive aggressive way of you telling me?" I laugh. It's similar to a child asking if you seen them center stage from the crowded stadium.

"Just want an honest opinion. That's all I value truly. Honesty." Our eyes meet fleetingly. "Even though I wasn't entirely honest about the appearance of art piece itself but it did come from an honest heart tho. Bless my NDL."

One part of me wants an elaboration on the abbreviation but the logical sees that we're nearing our desired floor.

"So once you're up there you'll sign an NDA - and then from there it'll be straight to the catacombs with you."

His guwaff sends butterflies flying through my stomach.