SHEILA'S AWAKENING ( A Nigeria Story)

Over Protective

Six days after the art exhibition, Sheila and Abdulahad went to meet max at his work place.

Max leads Sheila to the easel, where a blank canvas awaits, like an empty page begging to be filled with the story of their encounter.

Abdulahad lingers nearby, still looking protective, his eyes fixed on Max with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
Max notices and smiles reassuringly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her," Max says, his voice gentle and soothing. "I just want to capture her essence on canvas."

Abdulahad nods, but his expression remains skeptical, his arms crossed over his chest.
Sheila playfully rolls her eyes and takes a seat in front of the easel, her yellow dress fluttering around her like a ray of sunshine.

Max begins to mix colors on his palette, his hands moving deftly, like a conductor leading an orchestra. He adds a dash of blue here, a splash of green there, creating a symphony of hues that seem to dance in harmony.

"So, Sheila, tell me about yourself," Max says, his eyes locked on hers, his voice encouraging. "What inspires you? What makes you tick?"

Sheila thinks for a moment, her brow furrowed in contemplation. "I'm inspired by the beauty in everyday things," she says finally. "A sunset, a conversation, a moment of connection with someone. I find magic in the mundane."

Max nods, his eyes lighting up like a sparkler on a summer night. "I see that," he says. "You have a spark within you, a light that shines bright. I want to capture that on canvas."

As Max begins to paint, Sheila feels a sense of calm wash over her, like a soothing balm on a summer day. She watches, mesmerized, as colors blend and merge, taking shape as a vibrant portrait of herself.

Abdulahad lingers nearby, observing the scene with interest, his expression softening ever so slightly. He can't deny Max's talent even though he hates the guy.

"Can you move a little" Max's say not looking up

Sheila moved her sit a little to the right and then to the left unsure of where exactly he wanted her to move to.

"Not you Sheila, him" Max's said looking directly at abdulahad.

Abdulahad looked at him like he was a mad man for asking to move but still moved to avoid argument.

As the painting progresses, Max and Sheila chat, sharing stories and laughter, making abdulahad feel uncomfortable, he kept asking himself in his head why he was here?.

When the painting is finished, Max steps back, admiring his work, his eyes shining with pride. Sheila gasps, her eyes widening in wonder, like a child beholding a rainbow for the first time.

"It's beautiful," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "You've captured me perfectly."

Max smiles, pleased, his eyes meeting Sheila's. "You inspired me," he says. "Your spark is infectious."

Abdulahad approaches, his expression softening, like a summer breeze rustling the leaves. "It's incredible," he says. "You've truly captured her essence."

Max nods, his eyes locked on Sheila's. "I couldn't have done it without her," he says. "She's a true muse."

Sheila blushes" thank you Max".
" I will love to paint you again next Time, If that's okay with you?, Max's asked directing the question to Sheila but looking at Abdulahad
"We will think about it" Abdulahad said his hand on sheila shoulder

"You are acting weird" Sheila said to abdulahad as they as they got into their ride back to the campus

"I'm not acting weird I'm acting protective" he replied