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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CHRIS GREETS RIA with a delicate smile on shy lips. Her heart lifts when she sees him. Sandals scrape along the pavement as she scurries across the parking lot of the art museum to meet him.
The silk skirt of her sundress brushes against her legs, and her curls tickle her exposed back. After weeks of being consumed by depression, anxiety and emotional detachment, flourishing in vibrant colors is exactly what her heart needs.
Streams of sunlight kiss her back. Golden sunflowers spring from thin blades of grass. Dandelion fluff flits through the warm breezes like flakes of fresh snow.
Chris holds his arms open and embraces her. "Hey, babe." His lips touch the top of her head and his familiar scent wraps around her with a hint of cologne and cigarettes buried in his loose t-shirt.
He's smoking again. Annoyance tugs at her chest. Why does he do that to himself?
She pulls back with a smile, trying to ignore the hesitation in her heart. "I can't believe you of all people are going to an art gallery. You hate these places."
Chris rubs his neck as his lips fight the slightest grin. "This is for you and your birthday. It's a little out of town, so I hope you haven't been here before."
She shakes her head and clasps her hands in front of her. "Nope. I have not." She twirls in a slow circle to take everything in.
The building is modest with far less elegance than Camille's or Ostentoso but breathes an indie aesthetic and charm. A worn brick build is adorned in natures vines and weeds. It calls to her with whispers of foreign allures and discoveries.
"It's amazing." She beams and twists her body side to side. "I haven't gotten lost in so long." She finds solace in staring at her entangled fingers as she releases a disappointed sigh. "I haven't used my camera or painted or even sketched anything in so long."
The last time she felt an artistic urge was before Brandon attacked her. Now that her life finally seems to be under control, the desire to create lights a fire in her veins. It's been forever since she's daydreamed about touching the stars.
"Well, I scoped the place out and mapped all the things I thought you might enjoy." He grins and taps the side of his head. "It's all up here. So, just tell me what you wanna see most."
"You did that for me?"
"Of course." Chris slings an arm around her shoulders. "Anything for my girl. You're getting old so I thought you'd appreciate the most ancient things."
Ria rolls her eyes and slips from under his hold. "You're older than me, scemo."
Chris sticks his tongue out in a boyish manner that reminds her so much of their old friendship. "Who was the one that said men mature five years slower than women? According to you, I'm still nineteen."
