Brushed-off Feelings (Hiatus)

Chapter 3

I keep on telling myself this isn't a date. I mean, why would it be? We still haven't resolved the past issues between us. But why the heck did he want to meet me at the gallery at this time?

I saw him running towards me. He smiled when he saw me but then it disappeared as if the smile was just a part of my imagination. He walked up to me when he was close enough.

"Hey! Sorry, I was late."

"Well, I'm not surprised." I mutter not loud enough for him to hear me. "So why do you want to meet here? Don't you think it would be faster for our project if we moved immediately to brainstorming and painting the canvas?" I said, quite annoyed at how I can smell his scent. He still wore the perfume I bought him on our first anniversary. God, I love that smell. I mentally kicked myself. Dammit,why do I love that smell.

"I was just thinking that we should find inspiration first. See something we both can agree upon. He said. "Besides they have a lot of new paintings here that I really wanted to see. So should we go in?"

"Fine, whatever."

We went inside the arts gallery. This is my first time going to any gallery since I arrived here in LA. An art student that doesn't go to art galleries? I know, ironic. But what can I say, I don't have anyone to go with. The only place Steph would go to, are parties and I don't want to ask James if he wanted to go with me. I'm sure he'll say yes but I don't want him to get the wrong idea.

There are a lot of interesting paintings and sculpture here. Everywhere I look is beautiful. Everything oozed out of creative juices and I'm just absorbing all of it. I looked at Blake, and he looked at me with an amused look on his face.

"What are you looking at?" I said.

He shrugged. "Nothing. I just like how your face lit up while you're looking at the paintings."

"You knew how much I love these kinds of stuff."

"Yeah, I know" he whispered so softly, I barely heard it. My heart skipped a bit. Damn it, heart! Don't betray me now.

I walk ahead, trying to calm my heart and leaving the guy who makes it pound. Can't Blake get a clue and be indifferent to me tonight.

Something caught my eyes in the left wall. It was a painting so beautiful, it tugs at my heartstring. Two people leaning into each other, eyes closed with colorful tears cascading in their cheeks. I can't figure out if they we're saying goodbye or they reunited but it filled me with so much emotion. Probably because it resonates with mine.

Tears starts to well up and I blinked a few times, to make it stop.

I can feel Blake walk beside me, looking at the painting that almost brought me to tears. We were silent. But unlike our previous one, the silence we have right now carry a sense of understanding. We just stand there looking at it, scrutinizing, appreciating.

I remember the time we used to do this. The time when we just enjoy our youth, the time when we still didn't care how the time was passing by because we're both contented to where we were.

Those were before his parent's decided to migrate in the US. Before everything between us fall apart. Before I gave up on us.

I can feel Blake's movement beside me, the heat his body gave off. I have the stupid urge to lean to him like I used to. But I can't do this to him. I'm the one who left him, the one who gave up. I can't just do that to someone who's happy now with his new girlfriend. It's not right. This isn't right.

"I'm sorry, Blake. I need to go home." I told him before I ran out of the gallery.