For Your Love | Keith Powers

One.

As people began to walk into the building, Yara was scared out of her mind. This was her first art show and could possibly be her last.

She had been out since early that morning, running around to make sure everything was perfect.

She saw a waitress passing by with champagne and she grabbed a glass, quickly downing it, hoping it would calm her nerves.

You got this.

She scanned the crowd once more, setting the glass on a nearby table and began to socialize.

She had invited plenty: co-workers, Sorors, friends, family. The place had been packed. There were people from wall to wall.

All her paintings represented her childhood. The pain, the hurt, the struggle. This exhibit was her life. It was her.

Yara moved through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and soaking in the murmurs of admiration and curiosity. The night air buzzed with excitement and anticipation. She could see her friends huddled in a group, giving her reassuring smiles and thumbs up. Her heart swelled with gratitude, but the anxiety still gnawed at her.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to see her bestie, Camille, standing there with a proud smile. "You've done an amazing job, Yara. Look around you. People are genuinely moved by your work."

Yara glanced around and noticed a woman with tears in her eyes, standing in front of one of her most personal pieces. A father and daughter were discussing the emotions behind another painting, their faces reflecting deep thought and connection. She could see her family beaming with pride, and her friends excitedly pointing out their favorite pieces.

Camille's words sank in, and for the first time that evening, Yara felt a wave of calm wash over her. "Thank you girl. I couldn't have done this without you."

"Nonsense," She replied, hugging her once. "This is all you. Your passion, your story. You've shared something truly special tonight."

As the night went on, Yara found herself relaxing more, engaging in deeper conversations about her work, and even laughing. She noticed a man in a tailored suit standing near the entrance, intently studying one of her paintings. Curious, she approached him.

"Hi, I'm Yara, the artist. What do you think of the piece?"

He was fine. From the short curls that laid tightly on his head to his full lips and chiseled cheeks, all the way to his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was her type.

The man turned to her, his expression thoughtful. "It's powerful. Raw. I'm intrigued by the story behind it. "I'm Lucas, by the way."

As they chatted, he praised her work and expressed his admiration. The initial awkwardness that lingered in the air was soon replaced by a growing sense of flattery.
She had business to take care of with the rest of her guests and potential buyers but she had promised to make her way back to him.

By the end of the evening, Yara stood at the center of the room, surrounded by people who were genuinely moved by her art. The realization hit her – this wasn't just a show; it was the beginning of something much bigger.

As the last of the guests trickled out, Yara took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. She had poured her soul into her work, and it had paid off.

"You didn't forget about me did you?" He called out to her. She quickly turned to him with a smile spread across her face. His hand held a bouquet of flowers. Peonies to be exact. It was just the two of them in the studio with the lights dimmed.

"These are beautiful. Thank you, Lucas." Normally she would be scared out of her mind but he was so warm and inviting.

"I hate that we didn't get to finish talking earlier. Let me take you to dinner?"

Yara hesitated for a moment, glancing around the now-empty studio. The evening had been a whirlwind of conversations and congratulations, but Lucas had been the one constant presence throughout, quietly supporting her from the sidelines. His offer was tempting, and she found herself nodding before she even realized it.

"I'd like that," she said softly.

Lucas's eyes lit up, and he extended his arm to her. "Great. I know just the place."

As they walked out of the studio, Yara felt a sense of calm wash over her. The night air was cool and refreshing, a welcome change from the intensity of the event. Lucas led her to a cozy little bistro just around the corner, that read 'Giovanni's', its warm lights spilling out onto the cobblestone street.

Inside, the atmosphere was intimate and inviting. They were seated at a corner table, tucked away from the few other patrons.

"So are you from here?" Lucas asked sitting up in his seat.

"No I'm from New Orleans actually."

"Really? I went once on business. I didn't really get to see the city."

"I'll have to take you sometime then." Yara said putting her chin on her hands.

"I would love that." He said with a wide smile making Yara melt on the inside. Nice smiles and teeth were a big turn on for her.

Is this flirting? She wondered. It had been a very long while for her. Him as well.

"Where are you from?"

"West Africa. Mali to be exact."

"Wow, that's amazing. I've always been obsessed with the culture, the colors, the food. Everything."

"Have you ever been?"

"No, I think if I had the chance to go I'd never leave." He chuckled at her statement, admiring how she had taken such interest in his country. His mother would love that for sure.

The conversation flowed easily, and Yara found herself opening up to Lucas in a way she hadn't with anyone in a long time. They talked about everything—from their childhood dreams to their fears and aspirations.

As the night wore on, Yara realized how much she enjoyed Lucas's company. There was something about him that made her feel at ease, as if she had known him forever. She could see the genuine interest in his eyes, the way he listened intently to every word she said.

When the meal was over and the check had been paid, Lucas walked her back to the studio. They stood outside the door, the streetlamp casting a soft glow around them.

"Thank you for tonight," Yara said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I really needed this."

"Anytime," Lucas replied, his gaze locking onto hers. "I meant what I said earlier—you truly are a beautiful person, Yara."

She felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of emotions she couldn't quite put into words. With a shy smile, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. He snaked one arm around her body pulling her close while the other lay on her cheek. He was so close that she could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

"God you're gorgeous." Lucas said before gently putting his lips onto hers.

Yara's arms went around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Lucas opened his mouth deepening the kiss. He put his hands on her waist attempting to pull her closer. Yara let out a small moan as he pressed up against her.

"We should stop." Lucas said breaking the kiss.

"Goodnight, Lucas," she said, turning to unlock the studio door. He pecked her lips once more and smiled at her.

"Goodnight, Yara," he replied, watching as she disappeared inside. As he walked away, he couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special.