POSTURE and anatomy were my least favorite parts of art and though I didn't need the advanced class on it, working on areas you know are weakest are better for improvement.

Plus, the marketing side of Fashion Design was something I was quite comfortable in. And who knows the kinds of inspiration I can have in learning from another area.

As a matter of fact, it was a bit of a shot in the dark for me to try for Professor Bianchi's exclusive class. She only took a limited portion of senior students, and even less for juniors. She had her own requirements that needed to be met, and this year, I was finally accepted a slot.

Every other Thursday was for practice on nude art. Every other week, nine to twelve of us arrive bright and early for a heavy and fulfilling session.

It was also pretty terrifying.

"Si! Il corpo è un tempio!" Professor Bianchi bellowed, sauntering around the room, weaving between easels and students. Her intensity brought startles all across students and mugs full of dirty paint water. "See how the light is elegant- like water stream, like - like the softness of silk, touching- just touching ever so little on his skin! See the beauty! The elegance! It is the softness of light and skin and the roughness of the male body that makes it so. Portray it! Perfect it!"

She spun around the middle and exploded her arms outward like a magician before doves flew out of the body in a pattern of spirals. She stopped just in front of me, covering the nude model who was twisted on a pedestal. "Vorrei che tu prendi la palla al balzo quando fai il tuo lavoro."

That is her finishing dramatization. Someone in class asked her about it after the fourth time she had proclaimed it - which is everyday in class, always towards the end - and she said it meant, I want you to take the bull by the horns with your work.

We also knew that once she said that, she would simmer off at the side, finally letting us breathe- and herself. She would sit on top of her desk very slightly, one foot pointed, as she sipped a small shot of pure espresso.

I checked the clock- twenty minutes before we were over, and tried to focus; grinding my teeth as my pencil marks darkened with intensity. When the twenty minutes ran up, the echo of the clock broke out throughout the room. I unplugged my earphones that I use to at least lower her volume and breathed.

Roslyn, a fellow senior and one I consider a good friend despite not being that close, met my eye as we all blinked, eyes wide, waking up from some sort of trance.

"Well," she said, voice hoarse. She hadn't spoken at all during class. "At least I drew half a body."

I hitched backward and saw that she had fully formed the body, the shadows brilliant, but only half done. I sighed. "At least you made good use of the shadows. Mine is..." The arm of mine was a little bent, and only half of the model's face was captured.

I admit it wasn't one of my personal best nor favorites. If I wasn't so mentally fogged, the nagging feeling at the back of my head, controlling that itch in my fingers- it would've been stronger. The urge to re-do. Re-make. Make it better.

Professor Bianchi's class always leaves us feeling like we just went through a one on one fight with a bull, or gone through the throngs of war.

Fresh. Liberated. Relieved.

"Alright, my students."

We turned to the professor as the nude model smiled shakily, his limbs working again after an hour of no use. Usually the professor gave us more time, but she insisted on doing a sprint today. He picked the offered robe the professor gave as she eyed each and everyone of us, her dark eyes lined with kohl, lips as dark as forbidden fruits.

She was a force to be reckoned with, and we all worshiped the ground she walked on. "Ti amo anche se tu non è sempre tutto sale e pepe. You may all go now. The works will be left here. As always."

She waved us away, leaving first with big, proud steps, her notebook and coffee cup in hand. Like a big, dangerous wind after wrecking havoc. She taught only for this class and always left like she never arrived in the first place. She was like a ghost... or again, like a whirlwind of intensity.

"I love her closing remarks," Roslyn murmured as we all packed up. "I Googled it and it's apparently, uh, 'I love you even though you are not always fun to be around with.' Sort of. I think." As everyone else left, Roslyn's eyes flew to the nude model who had disappeared off the makeshift dressing area and her smile was friendly when she looked back at me. "Alright, see you next time, Nadine."

"Bye, Roslyn."

With her gone, the room was empty save for myself and the model.

"Good job today," I called out, packing my things and unraveling my tangled earphones. No matter how new they were or how much I had untangled them beforehand, they always manage to twist themselves around to an annoying degree.

"All in the job's work," he said, sounding much closer.

Hands snaked themselves around my waist, hot breath fanned the corner of my cheek and collarbone. I rolled my eyes, but the smile tugged itself on my lips.

"Hello, gorgeous," he murmured.

"Hello to yourself, Adonis." I twisted myself around his grip and pecked his nose. He laughed breathily when we parted, green eyes shining.

"Adonis?" Asher leaned further down and nipped at my ear, our hair blending together. He smelled like sweat and sharp cologne.

"It's what the girls call you now, oh and Kevin." My eyes fluttered shut as he kissed my jaw, slowly traveling down my neck. Because he was tall, I worried about how he was arching his poor neck. But his lips were soft and his hands rubbing my sides were all very distracting. "Mmm, and Ross too."

"What about you?" he breathed into my skin.

I pulled his head back, bringing him to an eye level. It wasn't a joke that people called him Adonis. He was a modern day beauty, hair like bright spun gold with the length just barely touching his collarbones and skin touched by the sun. But I saw the way his eyes lingered for that answer, and I knew, like an impending premonition, I need to break up with him soon.

Four months is a good run anyway.

"You're Asher Kincaid."

He rolled his eyes, disappointed, but I pecked his lips. "Also what are you wearing? Is this silk?" A pink button down with the buttons halfway done tucked under his jeans. "I didn't know I was dating Mick Jagger."

"Mick Jagger meets Greek god."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright Mick, let's get dinner. I have to tell you something too."

After dinner and several hours spent in bed post-breakup to ran out any unnecessary feelings- and thank god Asher accepted the breakup almost as soon as possible, Asher Kincaid was officially out of my life after four months of bliss, with my phone beeping just as I was preparing to do some more practices on my tablet.

Leftover cold pancakes from this morning and a fizzy drink on the side, I was ready to go.

Say what you will of post-breakup sex, but they really spend you.

Tugging my hair into a tight ponytail, I smiled.

8:20 PM, BUCKY CHOI: Report - I talked to a girl without stuttering and without acting too cool for my ass. More myself and less like Esther's character.

BTW, she named him Marcus idek why.

8:22 PM, NADDY LYNCH: That's amazing!!! Ill treeat you tom

8:22 PM, NADDY LYNCH: *treat

8:25 PM, BUCKY CHOI: That's not necessary. I think I have to treat you actually. You don't get anything out of this arrangement.

8:26 PM, BUCKY CHOI: You should think of something

8:26 PM, BUCKY CHOI: I'm being honest. Think of something Nads. Good night.

I blinked at that almost aggressive goodnight. Then snorted. He was so formal in text that even I felt I had to comply. Just as I was flexing my fingers to start, I had gotten a ten minute practice, and occasionally sniping off a piece of pancake here and there when my phone rang.

Without checking the screen, I swallowed my mouthful, cleared my throat, and answered.

"Listen Buchanan, I'll message you when I think of something, okay? Don't pressure me and trust me, I'll think of something."

"Ooh," I mid-choked on my saliva when that familiar, girlish sound crackled through the phone speakers. I checked, double-checked the caller ID, and there it was, Els. "I guess it was true. Audie said you've tucked Bucky under your wing and was teaching him how to just be like you, Casual Dater."

I swallowed, drinking half of my fizzy blue drink, before I cleared my throat. "Ella. Hi. How are you? Heard you extended your stay in Maldives?"

"Ooh, doll, we didn't stay long at the beach. Mummy got tired of the sun very quickly, being as pale as an albino. We set off to Paris to shop and daddy bought lots of paintings. Usually Vermeers, but I think he got a Rembrandt and what could possibly be a Da Vinci but we're not sure yet. I mean it should be considering how much daddy paid. But... I think I should be the one asking what's happened in the past few days, Naddy dear."

"Uh... I don't know much about what Claudia told you, just that you know, I'm teaching Bucky not to get dump." I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Very hopeless at that," Ella mused. "Are you afraid I'd get mad?"

"No? Maybe? I mean, he is your ex."

"I like that you're helping him." I could feel the smile in her voice, the sincerity unclasped the tightly wounded air in my lungs. "He's a very sweet boy, but he's entirely hopeless. He needs someone like you. Stable."

A short bark of a laugh. "I'm not going to date him, Els."

"Who knows, darling Naddy." The teasing lilt in her voice ran a shiver down my spine. "Never say never."

"You are impossible, Ella Ambrose."

"And you are appearing to be far more innocent than you are, Nadine Lynch." Teasing became smug, and somehow, I lost control of the conversation entirely. "We'll see. Bucky has this thing -"

" - I mean if Bucky didn't have a thing, I'd be a little concerned," I joked, wanting to slap myself immediately afterward. What am I doing, what am I saying?

Ella choked out a laugh. "Stop trying to divert the conversation to Bucky's thing. You'll get to that later."

"Shut up."

"You are a doll, my dear, and yes, Bucky is innocent, but he is not a saint. And you are definitely not one yourself. Whatever happens, happens. Just don't break each other's hearts, I feel like that would be a brutal affair."

"Whoa, whoa- whoa. Calm down there, author of fifteen romantic bestsellers." I took a deep breath while Ella giggled impishly. "When I was insinuating, I was joking. Bucky and I- it's more of a teacher student thing - and don't make a comment about that, I'm done with that joke. The gc is already hell as it is."

"Haven't been backreading," she muses.

"But it's just that. It's just helping someone who's not that well versed in the art of dating."

"Whatever you say, Naddy sweetheart. But before we got twisted around, it is a brilliant thing that you're helping him. Hopeless is one word, but there's a lot of potential for him to break hearts."

"I'm not raising a heartbreaker."

"Oh darling, if you're teaching him, it won't be too far to think so." I heard a shift, like moving around. A car honked. "The only curious thing is- whose heart will be broken and who will be the heartbreaker? Bucky maybe hopeless, but he has a certain charm and quick adapting skills and soon- sooner rather than later, one of you will take the fall and one will hold the hammer that hits it. If you do breakup. I really hope you don't though. You two have the potential."

I gaped like a fish, but she sighed, continuing. "I should really write a story. I've read so many Shakespeare and Austen enough to know what love is, what it's made of and how it's supposed to cross. Star-crossed but destined not just to fall in love, but to break each other's hearts."

I paused, our silence loud and spoken in numerous volumes. "Your romanticism is going to break your heart one day, Ella."

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea," she recited, voice soft. "My love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite."

"Okay, I don't know about that since I just broke up with Asher."

"Aw, the nude model? He was stunning."

"Yeah." I twirled my draw pen. "He was starting to get serious. I could feel it."

Ella sighed. "Ahh. The heart that learns to beat will sooner find it stopped."

"What? What book is that from?"

"Nothing, just said it. Felt right. You can tell me all about it when we get drinks. This Friday?"

Relief relaxed my shoulders. "That would be awesome."

"Unless you have a lesson planned for Mr. Choi, then I really don't want to impose," she teased.

"You're horrible, Ambrose. Just horrible."

Sì! Il corpo è un tempio! = Yes! The body is a temple!

Vorrei che tu prendi la palla al balzo quando fai il tuo lavoro = I want you to take the bull by the horns.

Ti amo anche se tu non è sempre tutto sale e pepe = I love you even if you are not always fun to be around with.