Relations on Canvas

Chapter Seven.

20 Days.

    I was completely and utterly in love.

No other way to describe the feverish joy I felt covering my body every time he simply acknowledged me. And to have danced with him? I was still dreaming of it. His soft laughter so close to me, his head on my chest, his hand that fit so nicely in mine...

    With a dreamy sigh I lifted my piano cover. I still had some hours to kill before we went on our outing to the Louvre museum, which I couldn't stop smiling about. But I grew solemn to the sight of the song I was to practice; Monet.

    I still missed him, that would never end... yet Mary had pulled me away from my daily thoughts of him... it was as if Mary were Monet in a sense. From his soft Auburn hair, his pale skin, green eyes to the two moles below them... that was odd. That detail was rather specific, but Monet had died... I mean, why would a hospital lie, it served no purpose?

    My hands shook too much when I attempted to play the gentle tune, tears made the keys slippery and my voice cracked, I couldn't focus on the song, that night racing across my mind vividly; the call, his weak voice wracked with coughing-

    'Elia... please, please come over... I need you...'

My blood and mother's screams, cool night air, rough pavement under my bare feet, cold hospital lights-

    'I'm sorry, son... but the only patient with that name passed away just an hour ago. His family requested his body be moved immediately so it's already at the morticians... I'm sorry for the loss, son.' That gut dropping sensation at the nurses words, how distant the world had been in a matter of seconds, it hadn't felt real, just a bad dream, and if it was just a bad dream I could-

    I gasped, jolting back into reality, lowering my trembling hands from my hair, my breathing sporadic. Staring at the keys of the piano I cleaned off the tears on them with my sleeve, which helped calm the sudden overwhelming emotions. I closed my eyes, reaching for something to calm me.

    Mary. His tender smile, sad gaze, warm embrace... and I began to play a new piece, inspired by him. Thank you, for sending him, Monet.

.          .          .

   
    "Now, you must show me your favorite." I took Mary's shoulders, leading him inside with excitement, yet mindful of how easily he fell and ran out of breath.

He pondered a bit, looking back at me. "It's not the Mona Lisa..."

"You are so unique." I grinned, "but of course, it can be rather boring to look at. So. favorite?" I led him to the main lobby.

"...I like the statues. Most paintings are religious arts, but Athena is truly impressive."  He leaned back, taking my hand lightly to which I returned the gesture happily.

"Ah, statues are pretty... you want to know something? And promise not to judge?" I looked down at him.

"I would love to, and I don't judge." He smiled, his gaze on our hands and mine on his light blush, I nearly forgot I had to speak!

"Mm, I have never been... in this museum." I sighed, "this is my first time."

"WHAT-," He covered his mouth before I could when his voice echoed around the room, his eyes wide in shock, and I looked away in shame. "...How- how is that possible?"

"Well... I promised I would see it with my first crush... and it just kinda stayed like that... but I realized I should move on so. Here we are." I looked away guiltily, "if you must, you can judge me... just don't say you are."