The Road Of Autumn [Interracial/WWBM]✔️

Chapter Nine: Art of Kissing

Denial is the dictator of chaos. Denial causes the truth to hide, causing lies to subsequently reign freely. The only temporary relief that denial offers is the avoidance of the truth. As much as many believe that denial is sometimes the only option, denial only opens up more.

If I was told a few weeks ago that the fairly friendly stranger that chased me down to return a notebook, would later be the stranger who convinces me to follow him through the streets of San Francisco without question, I would have simply guffawed at their stupidity.

But here I am.

The covert sun offers synthetic warmth in a silent battle against the gentle September wind. The city seems abnormally still. There are stirring pedestrians, but for the most part, the San Francisco streets are at rest. The calmness is inviting and most certainly appreciated.

An, even more, relaxing acknowledgment would be Timothy's own silence. He hasn't uttered a word since nearly dragging me out of the office this morning. Although we have been walking for a little over ten minutes now, he has yet to release my hand or inform me of our destination.

I would be lying if I said that having his palm grasping tightly around my hand does not feel comfortable. Something about him clasping our hands together so protectively seems right. It could be due to the fact that this is the most physical contact I have had with a man, aside from when I am conducting business. It could even be that I am in denial of how much his closeness soothes me.

There is so much that I have allowed this man to do to me that I would have thrown a tantrum should someone else had done it. I reiterate, there is something about this man that forces me to back down. Without uttering a word he can ask gently for my walls to weaken, and I will subsequently allow them to.

"Almost there." He finally whispers, not even acknowledging me.

I nod anyways, inspecting our surroundings. The hovering branches of trees maintain the secret of our destination. I can only see green and road from where we are walking. The only familiar scenery I notice is Howard Street.

That's when a smile threatens my lips.

Should we take a left on Howard Street, we will only go one way towards one of San Francisco's most prized possessions.

"Are we going to--"

"San Francisco museum of modern art? Yes." He turns to me, a small smile tugging his lips apart.

This time I allow the threatening smile, only to quickly cover my mouth with my free hand. It is a subconscious habit derived from being teased for so long about my "hard" smiling. I have been told that the smile is not an appealing one.

Let it go, Autumn, it's in the past.

I inhale and exhale quietly, submitting to my consciences advice. And when the San Francisco museum of modern art finally reveals itself, I find my smile again.

Although the rumored expansion for the illustrious building is more than eminent, my golden memories of the museum itself remain the same.

The San Francisco museum of modern art was one the first places I visited when I initially moved here. I was staying nearby in the St Regis hotel and one morning I happened to stumble across this ginormous building with intriguing sculptures on the lawn of the entrance.

I was enticed, to say the least. I would later learn that Third Street, which is the street where the museum is located, is home to many museums one including a children's creativity museum.

I fell for San Francisco because of this. San Francisco appreciates the arts of all genre's, and this is why I found my niche here.

I inhale deeply and exhale softly, taken aback by the new enhancements of the building. What was once a quite sizable building has been doubled into something magnificently colossal.