Peintures vivantes - Joseph Descamps

Que se passe-t-il ???

Since the last confrontation with Descamps on the balcony, two whole weeks have passed. All the days have gone well, and I don't deny it.
Annick, Henri and I took two more, rather important exams, and against all odds, we all passed both of them with excellent grades.

"Yes mum, Marion has just left my flat. She will be home to you in a few hours. Don't worry." I reassure my mother over the phone as I fiddle with the wire.

"Fine, darling. Are you OK?" she asks me, curious. I pretend to think for a few seconds, and answer with a simple, "Yes, I'm fine."

"And with Vincent? Is everything going well?" she asks me, increasingly nosy and curious. I laugh slightly, and squeeze the handset between my fingers. "Yes mum. Everything is going great. Now excuse me, but I have to put the call down. I have to go to the library, I have to study for my last exam."

"Of course my darling. I'll talk to you tomorrow." And so the phone call falls, giving way to the silence of my flat. I get ready rather hurriedly and put on the first clothes I can find, and after passing by Annick's room to say goodbye, I leave the house, dropping the bunch of keys into the deep pocket of my trench coat.

I let myself be carried away by the buzz of the city's crowded streets, observing the frenzy that fills the public spaces. As soon as I reach the university, I head straight for the library. Unlike the other times, I had to go to the library alone. At my request the day before, Henri replied that he was busy with his family, while Annick is not feeling very well these days.

The library is packed with students studying for upcoming exams, and for a few minutes I struggle to find a place to sit. After a few minutes, I notice a vacant seat by the window.

I approach without paying attention to who is sitting at the table, and as soon as I arrive I ask "Is this seat free?" To my surprise, the boy with his back turned towards me, and we both remained rather confused.

"Oh, hello Seyedoux. Yes, it's free." He replies, looking at me questioningly. If it were possible to calculate the amount of jinx I carry around, I would definitely win the 'world's lamest person' award.

"Fine, thank you." I reply politely and sit down in the empty seat in front of him. At the table are other boys intent on studying their university subject in depth. I settle down in silence, using the bench to open the notebook and the respective book of the examination subject, and open the case.

As I study, I unconsciously try to observe what Descamps is up to in front of me, but every time I look up, I see him engrossed in his philosophical reading, nibbling with his teeth on his now well-worn pencil.

The situation almost seems to be reversed: my eyes keep looking for his figure, while he just goes about his business, never distracted.

At the umpteenth time when my eyes inadvertently look up, they manage to meet the gaze of Descamps, who is watching me for the first time in hours. As soon as our gazes meet, he averts it with a lightning movement.

I do the same, but a few seconds later, I peek back and notice a small, faint smile paint his face.

"Will you stop staring at me?" asks Descamps, after discovering me still sneaking glances at him. I immediately lower my gaze in embarrassment and cover my forehead with a hand.

"Sorry." I apologise immediately, in a low voice. By now, after a few hours, our table has emptied, and only the two of us are left sitting. My eyes remain glued to the exercise in the middle of the notebook and I decide once and for all to concentrate seriously.

"What exam is it?" he always asks me, craning his neck to peek at my book. "Mathematical analysis..." I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I could say interesting, but that would come across as pathetic, since I don't understand any of that stuff." He replies, and looking back at me, I see him laugh slightly. He is probably in a good mood today, which is quite rare.

"And what are you studying?" I ask him, trying to come across as interested, as he was with me. "Institutions of philosophy." He answers me simply.

"I could say interesting, but that would come across as pathetic, since I don't understand any of that stuff," I repeat the sentence he said just before, and without warning, we both laugh under our breath.

After a few minutes, I feel the incessant need to go to the bathroom, and so I decide to get up under Descamps' gaze, and make my way to the toilets. On the way, I think back to Descamps' faint laugh, and smile slightly as I arrive at the toilets.

As soon as I try to open the door, I immediately realise that it is locked, and looking up, I read a sign saying "Cleaning in progress."

I puff loudly, feeling my bladder growing more and more insistent. I can't not go to the bathroom, I need to pee too much. I risk peeing my pants in the middle of the library.

After looking around, and noticing the completely empty corridor, I sneak through the door on the left, thus entering the men's bathroom. Without hesitation, I throw open the first door I can reach, unable to hold back any longer, finding myself in front of a scene to say the least....

"Vincent????"

In front of my poor eyes the figures of Vincent and Emile are revealed, entwined with each other, kissing fiercely. As soon as I shout his name, Vincent disengages himself from the boy, and on seeing me, jumps to his feet like a spring.

"Romy?!?!"

Without adding anything else, I leave the toilets and run towards the exit, hoping not to be followed. I quickly exit and find myself immersed in the thunderstorm that has been battering the city for hours, and I quickly get drenched.

I run my hands through my hair, trying to process what my eyes have just seen, and I almost tear them out in nervousness. I hear the door to the hall open wide behind my back, and Vincent runs towards me, placing himself in front of me.

He grabs my shoulders and shakes me. "Romy...I can explain..." he moans, still hot and red-cheeked. I voluntarily avoid his gaze, keeping mine on our feet close together.

"ROMY!?" he calls back, shouting. I break free from his grasp, still processing, and finally look him in the eye. What the fuck is going on?

'I can't believe it...' I begin, stammering. I see him bring a hand to his eyes, covering them. Both of us are starting to get our clothes completely wet. "I can explain..." he repeats for the second time.

"What can you explain?" I ask him, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration drumming in my temples. Vincent, as soon as he notices that I am about to go off like a ticking time bomb, covers my mouth with his hand, slightly violently.

"No one must know!" he implores me, as I try to break free from his grip. "No one!" I begin to feel my breath getting more and more frantic.

'I can explain, but no one needs to know Romy...' Vincent continues in a low voice. I break apart, wanting only to run away and get away. "Why have you been lying to me all this time?"

"Romy! Please calm down." He calls me back in a firm voice, hoping for my complete silence. His grip becomes more suffocating by the second, surely dictated by his panic.

The door behind me opens, and the tall, lanky figure of Descamps emerges. "Leave her alone," Vincent resumes, releasing me from his grip and taking me behind his back, as he does every time something dangerous happens.

'Please don't get in my way you...' Vincent implores him, trying to get closer to me.

"I'm not getting in the way, but I'd rather you act civilised and not wiggle her like a rag doll." Descamps replies annoyed, holding me behind him. I watch him from behind, wondering why he is helping me.

Feeling cornered, Vincent repeats to me for the last time, 'Please Romy, no one must know...' and leaves, re-entering the university. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

author space:

Hello!♡♡

So............did you ever expect this?

I hope you are enjoying the story!