When the fear of isolation pulls Ashton and Ria together, nothing can prepare them for the collision. An anomaly shatters the repetitive fabric of their lives, sending them on a journey of discovering themselves and one another.
Beneath Ashton's gen...
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"WHAT IF WE are the stars?"
A smile is painted across Ria's lips as she turns, swaying with the swirl of colors around the room. The sleeves to her sweater slide down her wrists as she extends her hands towards the glistening stars littered across pastel clouds.
"What do you mean?" the man asks.
"What if our souls are the stars?" She twirls again. "They're just inside of us. That's why we can't see them."
"That's a charming thought." The low rumble of his voice sends a tremor down her spine.
Ria stops turning in a flustered mess, finding her body practically flush against his. He secures his fingers around her wrists, holding her steady while emitting an explosion of sparks beneath her skin. The vibrant colors of Nightingmus reflect against his skin. Echoes of unspoken words resonate in the space between them.
She musters up a smile and takes a safe step away from him. "Thank you. I'm glad you don't think it's nonsense."
He shrugs and pockets his hands. "Everyone's thoughts work differently." The man turns his back and stares at the dust clouds as they settle. "Maybe you're right."
She lowers her voice to a near whisper, "What do you feel when you see it? Nightingmus..." He turns back to her and she becomes a hostage in the sea that resides in his eyes. They're staring at each other again, something intense and wild passing between them, leaving her pulse harsh and erratic.
"Everything." He cocks his head to the side, intrigue drawing along the plains of his face. "I see a universe of endless, beautiful possibilities." When he shifts towards her, she notices a glint in his light eyes. A familiarity. Maybe they share the same demons, plagued by the same thoughts.
An artist's mind with an empty soul.
"So" — he hesitates — "what are your plans for tonight?"
She blinks absently for a moment. Her brows furrow.
Is he trying to hook up with me?
Last week, Ria promised not to sleep with another stranger. The reason she came to Ostentoso in the dead of night was to avoid the temptation of temporary lovers and invite the comfort of creativity. What makes this man any different from the rest?
Her lungs constrict and she finds her universe in his gaze. His eyes.
The way he looks at her and the way he looks at art. How would it feel to be his muse for the night? To become his canvas as he becomes hers... A smile teases her lips. That would be nice.
"I'll leave that up to you to decide." Ria flashes a grin before slipping out of the room and into the rest of the illuminated gallery with a buzz zipping through her chest.
