Portion (Ongoing)

fine art

Wow.

This was what I was talking about. 

The museum was huge in the inside. The ceilings, I would say, were nine feet or more high and had openings so that sunlight could shine through. All kinds of art were lit by a light that made them stand out. All walks of people passed by, observing the art like critics and looking at every detail.

A class full of little kids, I'm assuming on a field trip, pointed at the art while security tried to stop them by blowing a whistle. They jumped and ran away.

I laughed. That happened to my childhood friend and I one time, but that's another story to tell for another day. 

Renaissance, abstract, cubism, surrealism, and many more art styles sparked my eyes. But I had my eyes on one in particular. 

Lord knows I love some Renaissance art.

For most of the time, I stayed over in the Renaissance exhibit.

Pieces like the Mona Lisa and The Last Supper stared right back at me. I could've sworn those eyes followed me. But I couldn't blame them. I knew I liked good.  My feet started to hurt from all of this walking, so I found a nearby bench to sit on. From right here, I have an amazing view of everything. I sat for a while in comfortable silence,  leaving everything behind me.

I was pulled out of my tranquility  when I felt my phone buzz through my purse and pulled it out. It was a message from Kia. I internally cursed.
__________________________
From: Aunty Keke💙🤪

You must think you are grown now since your pimpsqueak ass can't call me back. Little girl you better call me before I-
__________________________

I choose not to read the rest of the message for my sake and hell, yours too. With me adjusting to everything, I haven't been able to call Kia. She's going to chew my ass out. I decided I will deal with that later and just enjoy my bliss here.

I sighed. This could be my second home.

I heard more footsteps come into the exhibit as I bended my head down to place my phone back where it was.

I looked over to my right and a man in the distance caught my eye. He was standing in front of the painting Bacchus and Ariadne by Titian; the painting of the god of wine and his followers as he leaps from his chariot for Ariadne and falls in love instantly. His back was faced towards me. His backside looked familiar. The same neat, dark aurburn hair. That same build. He turned slightly and his side profile was chiseled, sporting a five o'clock shadow.

Professor Lockhart?

But the one thing I saw that wasn't familiar was him smiling.

It was nice.

As I sat on the bench, I really took notice of him while he was in his own little world. I never noticed how he had dimples, maybe because of the fact I never seen him smile before now. His typical wrinkles that lay on his forehead were gone. Instead laugh lines decorated his smile. His ears were slightly pointed like an elve's.

I giggled, but then coughed when I realized that didn't change the fact he was an asshole.

Lockhart walked around with his hands in his pockets; He seemed different. He was also a little less formal than he usually is. He wore blue, denim jeans of course, but he wore a tight, white woman beater shirt. You could see his triceps and biceps buck through his shirt as he lifted his hand to place under his chin when he analyzed each detail and stroke.

And may I say his butt...

Okay, I've been staring too long.

I got up from the bench, dusting myself off and decided to leave. The day was basically over ,and the museum was bound to close soon anyway. I knew I would definitely come here again.

Finally, I made it to my car and drove off back to campus.

At least today I got to witness true fine art.

◇◇◇◇◇

Xavier

Hmm.

I looked around and thought I caught a glimpse of a woman in yellow's backside as she left out the exhibit. She was hurriedly walking through. 

I checked the time on my watch. The museum was bound to close soon, so I thought I might as well take my leave for now.

I could've sworn someone was staring at my butt. Must've been my imagination.