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A blank expression graced his face as Lucas stared out the big window, his chin resting in the palm of his hands. It was a bright Sunday morning, and the day seemed to slow down more and more, as if on purpose. The streets were practically desolate, save for a girl biking around with flowers in her wicker basket.
The birds weren't singing as they usually did when he woke up, for it was much too late for that. Last night he had slept very little, writing whatever invaded his mind.
But what had really caught his eye was the steel-structure that loomed over him. It was a wonder that he was able to book a room with the effiel tower included with the view. And to say it was beautiful was an understatement. He stared at it blankly, for one should feel mesmerized!
But he did not. No, he felt nothing.
Lucas had traveled to Paris alone in hopes That he would feel something. It wasn't much to ask and yet—three days, two nights and he felt exactly the same—numb. It was disappointing.
He shifted his gaze to his wristwatch, stretching his arms. 12:05 pm.
What better thing was there to do than explore?
He hastily put on a thin overcoat and grabbed his backpack, rushing out of the hotel and into the streets of Paris.
The thought of lunch weighed down on him, and, feeling that he wasn't very hungry, he hailed a cab instead.
"Where to?"
"The louvre, please."
-
The art museum wasn't quite filled hence Lucas chose to go on a weekday. The hallways were filled with a wide array of paintings strewn across the walls. His eyes scanned each one slowly, attempting to find a masterpiece that would spark his interest.
"The Mona Lisa."
Lucas looked beside him in surprise, only to be greeted by the appearance of a chestnut-haired girl.
"The paintings worth more than my entire life." She laughed, making Lucas's lips form into a small smile.
"Do you-work here?" He questioned, his eyebrows knitted.
The girl shook her head slowly. "But someday I will." Her eyes seemed to gleam as she spoke. "Are you a tourist?"
Lucas winced at the word slightly. He never really fancied it much. He never knew why. "Well, i wouldn't call myself that. I'm sort of just passing by."
She nodded, soon holding her hand out for him to shake. "I'm Astrud."
He accepted, and shook it slightly. "Lucas."
For the next hour or two Astrud guided Lucas around the louvre, showing him her favorite paintings and explaining how they were created, who they were created by.
It was nice to be educated on such things, and Astrud herself seemed to be enjoying it. Her features seemed to glow amidst the gallery light, her soft smiles, her long lashes. Freckles were spread across her face, a contrast to her rosy cheeks.Her hands moved this way and that, as if painting a very detailed picture.
And that was when he realized that indeed, life does imitate art.
