Peintures vivantes - Joseph Descamps

Dimanche soir

"Romy!" I hear my name echo from the living room of my small flat in the city centre. My mind, clouded by distant and, to say the least, abstract thoughts, comes back to reality and I blink, dazed.

I get up in a hurry, and drop on my desk the eyeliner with which I was carefully painting the corner of my eyes. "I'm coming!" I shout back, to warn Annick of my arrival, and wrap myself in the cold blanket.

After putting on my slippers, and looking at myself out of the corner of my eye in the mirror positioned, as I usually do, at the base of the bed, I leave my room, and after going down two steps, I enter the small living room, suitably clean and tidy, as Annick likes it.

Without paying attention to anything, I cross the room and enter the small corridor leading to her room. Before entering, I knock gently. As soon as I get the go-ahead from my friend, I enter in her room, and find her bent over a notebook.

As soon as she hears me enter, she frowns. The day I see Annick serene and smiling is snowing, and it will be August. "What is that face Ann?" I ask her, approaching her desk.

I hear her snorting anxiously, and as soon as I am close enough to her notebook, she spatially shows me an exercise. "Did you get this exercise?" she asks me in hysterics, as she fiercely twirls a lock of blonde hair between her fingers.

I calmly check the steps of the exercise and immediately remember. I look back at her, smiling. "No, I'm sorry." I say laughing, but Annick remains serious and frowns.

"Bad, we have the exam soon, and I don't tolerate this thing that I am unable to solve this exercise." She rants anxiously. Before long, the lock of her beautiful hair will come off, leaving a big hole in the middle of her forehead.

I remain silent, watching her reckless panic make its way into her soul, while she distractedly observes me. "Are you wearing make- up?"

"Oh yes." I affirm, remembering that I only have one line of eyeliner in my left eye. Annick's gaze remains serious at all times as she closes the notebook, and opens the exercise book, flicking spatially through the pages until she finds the one she wants.

"Are you going out with Vincent?"
"Yes, you got me." I reply, giggling to myself.
"But the exam is in a few days." She replies worriedly.

"You are the usual catastrophist. The truth is that you are too stressed. The exam is not in a few days, but in a month and two days. And it's Sunday night. It's normal to take a walk around town." I take her back, trying to dilute her usual anxiety.

Annick remains silent, as if she has no idea what to add in response, and angrily goes back to checking her book. After patting her lightly on the shoulder, I head for the door. 'Unplug your brain a bit, otherwise it'll fry you. Rest, do something relaxing."

"Like what?!" she asks me impatiently.
"Take a bath in the tub, or continue reading the book I recommended. Or if you feel like it, come for a walk with Vincent and me." I advise her, beaming.

Annick, for as long as I have known her, has always been very dutiful. For her, it is unacceptable to fail an exam, or not get a high grade. On the one hand, I can understand her, but on the other, she exaggerates. I see her pondering what to choose from the proposals I just made to her, and she finally closes that damn university book.

"I think I'll call Henri, surely he's here hanging around with Vergoux. Maybe I'll go for a drink with them." She reflects, smiling slightly.

For those who may have wondered, no, Vergoux stopped being friends with Descamps shortly after the start of the fourth year of high school. In return, he became great friends with Pichon.

"Be sure to drink a lot!" I reply to her laughing, and close the door, going back to my room to finish my make-up. As I finish getting ready, I hear the intercom of our flat ringing, and in a rush, I put on my heels and, after hurriedly saying goodbye to Annick, I go out and down the stairs.

I open the door with enthusiasm and find myself standing a few steps away from Vincent. He is not particularly tall, or rather, I have known much taller guys. He has very light blue eyes, tending to grey, and very short blonde hair. As soon as he sees me, a radiant smile arises on his face, and he greets me with a nod of his head.

I close the door behind me, and approach, smiling at him. "Good evening Romy." I feel my heart explode in my chest, and even before we descend the steps, Vincent offers me his arm. As we make our way to the restaurant for Sunday night dinner, I watch carefully as all the people who, like us, share this moment of serenity with their friends or relatives, filling the streets of the city.

"Yellow suits you. You look stunning." Vincent compliments. Instinctively, instead of smiling at the compliment, I freeze. I've heard that phrase before...a long time ago. From a person I haven't heard for a (too) long time.

"Are you fine?" he asks me, visibly confused by my reaction. I immediately force myself back to reality, going back to closing that Christmas card I received three years ago in a dusty drawer of my mind.

"Yes, of course!" I reply, trying to appear light and carefree. As soon as we arrive in the restaurant, we sit down at our table, and in no time, the hours pass, amid laughter, stories, confessions and smiles. I find Vincent's presence absolutely pleasant and loving, but I am afraid of falling in love with him. I have made far too many mistakes.

After dinner, we decide to go for a quick drink in the bar next to my flat, and unexpectedly or almost unexpectedly, we meet Annick, Pichon and Vergoux sitting in front of the bar, three beers in hand.

"Romy?" Annick is rather confused to see me, while Pichon runs up to me and hugs me tightly and enthusiastically. "Hey there!" I greet them, and Vergoux, still sitting next to Annick, greets me in turn with a smile.

Vergoux is now studying at medical school, as he wants to follow in the footsteps of his father, a renowned ophthalmologist in the area. Vincent and I settle in next to them, and order ourselves, two small beers.

"Vergoux, how is it going?" I ask him, sipping the bitterness from the drink. He shrugs and finishes the beer with a sip. I always thought him a good-looking guy: with his very short but curly hair, green eyes, and a very regular face. It's a pity that during the year I attended Voltaire he was a moron at the heels of the 'king of morons'.

"I have my anatomy exam coming up. The first real exam. My father is putting a lot of pressure on me because he wants the best from me, but I'm pretty sure I can pass it." He replies in a calm tone, looking me in the eye.

"What about you? Have you relaxed a bit?" I ask Annick jokingly, sitting in silence as she watches the beer bubbles rise up the glass.

"You were right, drinking alcohol relaxes the nerves." She admits chuckling, moving her blonde hair to brush it off her face. Pichon still looks at her like the first day of school. After three years, the look is still the same: nothing short of love.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

author space:

hello!♡♡

did you like the first real chapter of the second part?

I can't wait to analyse Vincent's character better and maybe, have him meet up with Descamps!

if you liked it please like and comment♡♡