The Tale of Persephone | JJK [HIATUS]

🌸 Chapter 4 - A Piece of Olympus 🌸

- Apollo, God of Light, Eloquence, Poetry and the Fine Arts with Urania, Muse of Astronomy, 1798, by Charles Meynier

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Unbeknownst to anyone but Sophia herself, she had started to look forward to her classes in the afternoon on wednesday and friday, by around the time of twenty minutes shy of five o'clock.

She would go about her mornings fairly normally, waking up at six thirty sharp, getting ready and eating her breakfast, so she left just a bit before seven and half. By eight she would arrive at the museum, where she would start work with guided tours, interrupted with the eleven in the morning workshop. Around one it was lunch, then a meeting, and the occasional extra tour. And then the afternoon would drag on until it reached her desired time.

When that time came, Sophia always made sure to have the atelier clean, everything in its rightful place, and then indulging herself in her own work.

A soft knock on the door would be what interrupted her giddy daze, while she cleaned and chiseled away at marble. Sophia would unconsciously answer with a 'come in', barely taking her eyes from the white stone in front of her.

Today, though, she was truly immersed into the carving, the sandpaper in her hand already scruffy from being used so much. The expression on the face of the man she was sculpting was a peaceful one, of someone who had found the zenith of beauty within himself, only to be pulled away by fate itself. As Sophia crossed her arms on top of her apron, she couldn't help but wonder what was putting her off of his semblance so much. Perhaps because his anatomy was wrong?

She leaned back and narrowed her eyes, feet unknowingly moving all the way to the back edge of the wooden ladder she was propped on.

No, not the anatomy. If there was something Sophia had begun to excel at, was human anatomy. It came to her quickly and easily, certainly because of how many times she had drawn and sculpted it. Humming in frustration, she tilted her head back, not hearing the knock today.

Truly, she was way too out of it to hear the soft, mellow voice on the other side of the door, her deep green eyes so trained and focused on the white stone of her work. She didn't register the door opening, either. Her nose scrunched as she tried her hardest to pick up on the errors of the statuesque face of her piece, one hand coming to smooth through the forehead, then the bridge of the nose, palm wrapping atop its cheek.

Sophia halted her movement, suddenly realizing she had missed a spot in the cheekbone that had yet to be smoothed. The surface was rough, edges and ridges waiting to be perfected by her hands and sandpaper.

Wanting to make sure she wasn't making a mistake, she moved back again, trying to see if indeed that was the issue that was throwing her off. Her foot moved to take a step back, meeting nothing and throwing her off balance. but as she yelped softly in her place, sturdy, large hands steadied her on top of the ladder again, their warmth seeping into her body by her waist and back. Sophia looked back at the same time she used one hand of her own to steady herself, only she was grabbing the person's wrists.