Cold Hearted (Kris Bryant)

The Best Something is Nothing

Kehlani

"Alright. So what part are you confused on" I ask Kris. We were in the library doing some homework and trying to study even though it was pretty hard to focus when we keep getting lost in each other's eyes.

"Just the second chapter. I get the jist of it but I don't know all the definitions and stuff like that" he explains.

"Alright. Well I got some flash cards and we can go through those" I explain and he smiles at me. I loved when he did that.

"Perfect."

After studying flash cards and messing around for a little it was time for us to part. I had art class and he had practice so we had to reluctantly separate. I give him a quick kiss and turn to go away but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back. He places a long and deep kiss on my lips and I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I will never get over that feeling. 

Eventually he lets me go and I rush over to class. I sit down in front of my canvas and smile. I was almost done with the painting I was doing and it was turning out better than I thought. Since this was the first art class I took, it was a easy one. Just drawings and paintings, nothing too crazy. But it was nice to get back into this.

I work on my painting as the teacher continues to lecture us on the correct technique in painting. But I watched my mom paint for years. Even when she was in the hospital she still painted, I knew what to do. My sister still had all of her stuff back home. I even have one of her pieces up in my room. And although I know I will never be that good, that's okay. At least this way I could remember her.

"Kehlani, you haven't been listening to a word I've been saying, have you" the professor asks and I blush. I see my painting of abstract sorts when we're supposed to be doing portrait paintings.

"I'm sorry. I got lost I guess" I admit.

"It sure doesn't look like it. This piece is incredible" she claims.

"I started out like you said, but then I got stuck in a rabbit hole and I couldn't get out" I explain.

"You speak like a true artist" she laughs.

"My mom was a great one. I get her artistic hand" I admit.

"Well I think that you're something pretty special. I think you should be in my advanced class next semester" she insists.

"Really" I gasp.

"Yeah. What you're doing here, it can't be taught. And even if I did teach it you wouldn't listen" she teases and I laugh.

"I'm sorry about that. Most teachers can't get me to leave them alone" I explain.

"I don't doubt it. You have a incredible work ethic" she notices.

"Thanks. But this whole art thing is so new to me. I don't really know what I'm doing" I admit.

"You're doing great. If you would like I could take you under my wing. I know this isn't your major, but I do think you have a future in this" she claims.

"Seriously" I ask.

"Yeah. This piece alone is incredible. Imagine what you can do with a little bit of tutoring" she says.

"I don't know... is there much of a future in art" I ask

"More of a future than in doing something you feel like you're supposed to be doing and not something you feel like you will love doing" she tells me.

"I'm not much of an optimist" I explain.

"This is art sweetie, it doesn't matter."

After I talked with my professor I take my painting and I go back to my dorm. I set it on my desk and smile, I know it wasn't what I was supposed to do be but I was still proud of it. It turned out real nice.