The Great Artist // NINE PERCENT Chen Linong

21

○ After loving, you should have the peace to let it go ○
○ The great artist can create love renaissance once again ○

The thunder and the lightning were getting furious tonight. They have been rumbling and zapping and scaring people all night. And that included nearly everyone in Taiwan. But there was one who was especially scared, it was the famous and well-known the great artist.

The exact same situation happened as it was like this as well in London, inside her mansion. She felt pathetic. How could someone as famous and as respected and noble as her be scared of a mere thunderstorm happening outside the mansion?

"Help me Linong" the artist croaked out. She sounded as if she had just cried a whole river, as if she was someone depressed seeking comfort from their best friend. But the truth is that she hasn't and the writer isn't even with her at the moment.

She was curled up on the bed, shivering slightly due to the horrific thunderstorm outside the mansion. Taiwan have always had drizzles here and there but never has she ever noticed a rain, much more of a storm this bad. She just wanted the writer's comfort as it did help last time.

Weird enough, the writer did some in busting through the doors of the guest room. "I came here as soon as I heard the thunderstorm. Are you okay?" he asked and she shook her head as a no. He came in and closed the door softly as he headed towards the artist.

She looked up at him through her now teary lashes and stared at him as if she was communicating with him through her eyes. He seemed to get the message and climbed up her bed. He hugged her as she buried her face to his chest.

"It's alright, you're alright I got you" the writer whispered to her as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. It helped last time, why wouldn't it this time? She was sobbing by the time and she doesn't sound like she would be stopping any time now.

Perhaps it wasn't the thunderstorm fully haunting her mind right now, maybe it was something else on her mind that poured a waterfall down her cheeks. The writer wasn't that experienced in girls so he wouldn't know what was on her mind. But what he did know was that she was suffering from her own thoughts.

"What has been haunting your mind lately, Michelle?" the writer asked, using her first name he rarely ever uses. The artist looked up at his eyes. "I... I just don't know anymore" she said and looked down once more.

"Is it about... him?" he asked. "No... not all at least" she said and he became confused. If it wasn't about the break up or the CEO, then what could it be? In his head, it would only be her love life which might haunt her, and maybe he was right.

"Then what has been bothering you?" he asked, this time with a hint of curiosity laced in his voice. "It's nothing" she said hesitantly and the hesitance of her voice didn't go unnoticed by the writer. "I know that it's not just nothing, tell me" he said as matter of fact.

"It's... you" she said. The writer was sent into utter shock. The one who has been bothering her mind and messing up her head... was him all along? "Me? What did I do? What can I do to help? What do I need to fix?" the writer started bombarding her with questions.

"It's not you who needs to fix something... it's me. All this time, all you've ever done to me was help me and get me into the truth although the truth was painful, cold, and cruel, you've brought me into the truth of my past lover. I've came to accept that my ex will never love me as much as I loved him" she said.

"Then which part of me has been running through your mind?" the writer asked again. "...all of you. Your help, your smile that outshines the sun, your hands, your choice of words, your mind when you are asked a critical question, your look when you write, everything. I'm just... scared, that's all." she said, voice getting softer by each word that comes out of her mouth.

"What is it that you mean? What are you scared of? Are you scared of... me?" he asked again. "No, it's not you that I'm scared of, it's my past and my future. In other words, I'm scared to love again. I'm starting to fall deep into your charms, writer. I'm starting to grow fond of you, I'm starting to love you as how you love me but..." she trailed off.

"But what?" the writer asked. He was honestly mindblown by the sudden confession but he had to keep it inside of him for the sake of the artist. "I'm just afraid that it's too soon for me to love after... everything that happened. I just- I don't think I'm ready to love again after my past lover, the man who used to have my heart and my soul" she said.

The writer smiled softly at her words and reached out a hand to carress her cheek. She leaned into the touch and she calmed down immediately, the slightest touch having a biggest effect on her. The thunderstorm outside was of no thought right now, it was just the two of them inside the guest room, saying their sweet confessions and solving each other's problems.

"Oh artist..." he said. "Don't worry about having to love again, moreover to start to love again. I knew what it felt like, the fear of having to love after being betrayed, after being used for some simple thing as a bet, as a fling. I never thought that I would go back to loving, I never thought that love was real ever since then" he said.

"But then I saw you" he continued and her emerald eyes stared into his caramel ones. "I saw you as barely an acquaintance the first time we met. And look how the tables have turned" he let out a low chuckle. "I never thought I would get to love such being like you, such perfect creature in this tyrannical universe" he said.

"Don't be afraid to love again, artist. An artist wouldn't be afraid to try something new, moreover something they have done in the past. The great artist can create love once more, she can create another page on her love diary and replace the previous ones with a better one. She can love again and she will once more" he smiled.

"Hey, Linong?" the artist spoke after a while. "What is it?" he asked. "Thank you... and I would like to give my response to your enlightenment speech just a moment ago" she said. "Go ahead" he said. He was wondering why she had to say that until he was caught off guard by the great artist pressing her pink plump kissable lips on his.