Chapter 5

We had three hours to spare. Long exams just finished and our lecturer never showed up for our supposedly next class.

"Zen, let's go to the Art studio! "
He plopped down infront of me. The busy cafeteria were filled with students studying while eating or chatting.

"Keith I'd rather go home." I finished my food and got my things when he stopped me with his words.

" Temper tantrums. "

I almost vomited my gastric contents.

"How did you know that. I mean--"

"I read it. Apparently the author had art works there too. " He beamed, knowing all too well this conversation is sold.

So I did.

It was neat and artsy. I can't really describe it. I've never been into one and never planned on.

We were at the middle part of the gallery when he broke the comfortable silence.

"Tell me. A poem of me and you."

At first I wanted to brush him of but it's poem.

"We were pallets of contrasting colors. Calm cyan and Rowdy red. White walls and black blotches. Peach pastel and grim gray."  In one swift motion I made that. Really?!  I mean normally.  It'll take a week or two for me to have a decent one.

"If I could paint a picture of love, I'd paint a picture of you. "

Is it this crazy.  After hearing those words aloud, from him. I felt something shifted.

It's just us throwing poems or whatever. So I liberated myself and played along.

"I am no connoisseur in the art of love. All I know is that I'm in love with you. " I don't have any idea why I said those words.

"When was it?"  That quizzical grin that had my heart thumping so hard plastered on his face I had to look away.

My breath hitched.

" When was what? "

Suddenly I felt like I'm so hot.

" When you realized it's me? " The minimal distance never helped at all. I think I'm dying of mortification.

"Oh, I haven't. Yet." I looked at the white canvas and black blotches on the left corner just so I can get a grip of the now.

"Okay. Well for me, it was when ---"

SON OF Iodameoba buetschlii.

Life is Short.

So I did something crazy.

"It was when you held doors open for me, cried with me, laughed with me, bullied me.  It was those small acts that meant grandeur gestures of love. "

I knew I flushed pink. I have never felt so mortified that I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole right now.

" I am deeply, hopelessly, irrevocably, In Love with You. " His words were mere whimpers but held the loudest decibel in my heart in the enormity of my existence.

"I am no connoisseur in the art of love but every moment I'd spent time with you morphs into a grandeur scheme of interwoven work of art. A masterpiece in a form of me and you."

I forgot that we are  in one big space. It felt like the world is only made for me and him.

"Is that a poem or is that for me? " His dimples dipped deeper than ever.

"It's a poem for you. " I had to bite my lower lip to stop smiling.

"Did you just flirted? "

He smiled. The best smile I had ever seen.

•••

Heyyy. Welcome to flirting HAHAHAHAHAHA. I am no flirt trust me. Anyways. Weathering. Time. It helped!!!

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