Hands of Clay, Heart of Stone

Chapter 2: The invitation

Dimitri

There she is, the girl I've been wondering about since last week. I don't know her but I saw her last week in a grocery store nearby while I was buying groceries for my pregnant sister. I noticed the girl because she was smiling and waving cheerfully at a baby that was being held by his mother. The baby smiled and giggled. I did smile too as I watched her interacting with the baby. It was innocent and sweet. I just know that she is a kind person and now I get to see her again. She is wearing a soft pink jumper which makes her look even more soft, if that's possible.

"Thank you for the compliments, I really appreciate it" I say softly with a smile as I gaze into her dark brown eyes, I love the shine in her eyes. "I'm Dimitri" I add and hold out my right hand.

"Ayra" she says softly with an awkward small smile and takes my hand, shakes it slightly and quickly lets go. Her hand is small compared to mine and it is kind of cold. She looks kind of unwilling but that's fine. I notice how her forearm is being held firmly by one of the sisters, maybe that's the reason why. The sisters introduce themselves as well, Alina and Alysa are their names. I converse with both of them mostly. I long to hear Ayra's soft voice again but she looks uncomfortable.

"Are you guys doing something this Saturday? I have a grand opening for my exhibition at the gallery downtown and I want to give the invitation cards if all of you are willing to come" I say as I gaze at them one by one.

"I will be busy with my assignment and Alysa is a model for my work but my oldest sister is free the whole weekend" says Alina with her cheeky smile as she pats her sister's forearm. I can see the colour slightly fading from Ayra's face. Before she could say no, I quickly take out the card from my shirt pocket and hand it to her. I feel guilty for ganging up on her with her sisters but I seriously want to be able to talk to her more. She takes the card and scans it for a moment.

"Dimitri, we have to go now" says my manager as he appears out of nowhere beside me. I nod and let out a quiet sigh. I bid goodbye to the girls and head to my manager's car. After I buckle my seatbelt, I gaze outside the window at them. I let out a chuckle as I see Ayra is definitely nagging at her sisters while flapping the card that I gave her in front of their faces and the sisters just smile cheekily.

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It's the day of my exhibition. I still feel nervous even though I'm supposed to get used to this kind of stuff, being in the spotlight and being perceived. My mom always says that I should believe in myself no matter what and don't take every word from people deeply into my heart. It would just make me overthink and might make me appreciate myself less. I'm always thankful that my parents and older sister are always there for me, giving me full support and love that I didn't know that I needed. I wouldn't be this confident if not for them. My dad also frequently reminds me to stay humble and be kind because he didn't want me to lose myself and turn into someone that I would dread one day.

The guests have started to arrive and get in, roaming around the gallery and looking at my work pieces. I stand by the reception, greeting and smiling at the guests. I rarely do this. I always wait for the event to start and would spend my time in the back, calming myself but I can't help myself this time, hoping that she would come. Most of the guests have arrived but I didn't see her at all. I begin to lose hope. I let out a deep sigh and when I'm about to turn around, the front door opens and there she is. I stare at her in awe. She's wearing a black modest dress, her hair is down behind her shoulders. There's a purse and a bouquet of flowers in her hands. She wears light makeup with cherry red lipstick. The theme for this event is formal with the colour of black and red. I notice she is walking slowly and kind of awkward. She looks uncomfortable again. I glance down and see that she's wearing red heels, perhaps that's the reason why.