*
Their first stop was the Art Museum.
It was an hour's drive from the hotel. It sat on the outskirts of the city overlooking a stretch of towering oak trees. This was the kind of place for budding new artists and gems in the rough.
Not only did it display local works of art, it also had an art store selling art materials. There was an entire level in the building that specialised in trinkets and handicrafts.
It was clearly not as well-known as the National Art Museum judging by the number of people she came across. Despite it being hours since opening time, she was surprised to find the museum rather empty on a Friday afternoon. Amber guessed that a good portion of their usual customers were busy camping out at the concert venue for IDOL or still slaving away at work.
Miri had slipped away the minute they arrived, proclaiming it to be Amber's solo outing time. She had handed Amber the museum ticket and sped off in the Porsche to see her soulmate with promises of a late lunch.
It was unsurprising that Miri would ditch her ass. When it came to art, her best friend had absolutely no appreciation or understanding of it. Amber had tried to teach her to value art before, but that particular museum visit had turned into a disaster with her bestie becoming uninterested just five minutes in.
The moment Amber stepped into the museum, she was met with that distinctive scent of the gallery space. That clean, cold smell of wood and dried paint. She would describe it as a combination of the rich smell of art, the dusty scent of libraries, and the crispness of airports.
It was a scent that calmed her restless mind, giving her a tranquillity she didn't know she needed. In the empty wide spaces and the naturally lit rooms, she found a calmness that drove out the roar of troubled thoughts in her mind.
It was nice to just look at artworks without having to over analyse them as she did in school. The museum started with more traditional pieces that later morphed into sculptures and new media art. Common, predictable works you would generally expect to see in an art museum.
She was, however, surprised by the large ultramarine blue cloud.
The instant she stepped into the open, spacious area, a delighted gasp escaped her lips and echoed across the empty space.
There were long pieces of bright cobalt blue plastic flaps suspended from the slanting steel structure of the museum. Placed together in such a dense cloud, the curtains of blue shimmered like rain under the light of the afternoon sun. The colours danced, shifting and flickering beautifully like soft summer rain.
A signboard at the head of the work confirmed her suspicions that the installation invited entrance. With a girlish giggle, something that rarely escaped her lips, Amber skipped into the inviting stretch, pushing past the flaps of plastic.
It was even more beautiful inside the work.
The light reminded her of the ocean floor. The shadows of the plastic painted her skin in curls and waves of ultramarines and Prussian blues. It was a brilliant contrast to her cadmium yellow outfit. Bright yellow to blue.
Amber was pretty sure she must be standing out like a Yellow Tang—a cute saltwater fish that was a brilliant lemon yellow colour.
The plastic was silky on her skin and Amber found herself closing her eyes, spreading her hands out to just let it all brush against her body as she moved across the fields of plastic. It was comforting, therapeutic even to just run her fingers through the flaps. The light of the sun flickered across her eyelids translating into flashes of white with the red of her flesh and blood.
What she didn't anticipate was for her to catch something in this endless sea of blue.
A very tall, very warm something.
If Amber had her way, the collision would be soft and beautiful. With Amber throwing her hands in the most effeminate of distressed gestures as she pressed gently onto the warm body. It would be a little poof of body on body, which could be easily brushed off with a quick word of apology.
Too bad, because gravity was a bitch and Amber was a clumsy female with two left feet.
Everything happened so quickly.
At first, she was just plastered cleanly onto the person. Her nose slamming painfully into the figure's deliciously hard, yet velvety chest. Her teeth had clinked together from the force, incisors sinking into her lips, so hard that she swore it almost broke skin.
She would have been the only casualty if it were not for the fact that her leg had stuck out to meet his incoming step. It was a collision of long limbs that sent legs into awkward turns of knees and outward flips of feet. They both tripped over each other, a tangle that sent him careening backwards, and her shooting forward like a missile.
It was all a haze after that. Amber remembered the world swirling and she didn't really know what happened next. Except that when it finally came to a stop, she was lying on the ground in the most embarrassing of positions that she could almost just die.
Die in his arms.
Amber's head rested on his bicep. Her body was pressed flush against his. Her legs entwined with his such that she was straddling his upper thigh. Her left palm was on his chest, while her other arm hung loosely over his body.
This was limbs interlocked with limbs, bodies pressed against bodies. This was a lover's embrace in bed. A couple ready to go from second base to third.
Amber had never really hugged someone of the opposite sex. Girl hugs were soft and warm with mounds of fat that would brush against her own. Girl hugs had the smell of sweet perfume or feminine deodorants, and the feeling of bra straps under her palms. Girl hugs featured long hair that tickled and brushed against her face.
The person in her arms was definitely a boy.
Amber's face was aflame, and heat was licking and creeping up her steadily reddening skin. These were wide shoulders and hard muscles that rippled under her touch. This was a flat chest and velvet wrapped over steel. She was so close to him that she was engulfed by his absolutely amazing smell.
It was clean.
Wrapped under that bubbly sweet scent of soap was a crisp fresh scent that was even better than the museum's. It was definitely masculine. Amber's nose twitched linking it to the sweet burn of fresh snow after a long trek up a mountain, the subtle tang of wine and maybe the aromatic bitterness of cocoa.
A sophisticated natural scent wafted from him in soft waves.
What was with Korea and their great smelling man?
The very next second featured a struggle between the two, as the both of them attempted to sit up at the same time. With her smaller frame straddling his upper leg, it made sense that his next course of action was to push his body up in an attempt to shake her off.
The sudden movement was accompanied by her own frantic actions to shove him away from her, only to fail as a sharp pain blossomed at her left ear. She had no choice but to follow his movements, sprawling over his body.
Her head was now resting in the crook of his neck. Her breath escaping her in short painful gasps at each yank of her body.
It didn't take her long to register the fact that her earring was very clearly stuck to something on his person. She did another experimental yank and a rumbled groan emitted from his lips. The sound vibrated up her body. It was a delicious sound that sent a shiver running up her spine and melted her insides, sending a pulse of heat across her face.
Fuck.
She was too flustered at this point, her right hand trailing up to touch the cheap crystal hanging from her left lobe. It was interlaced with cool metal. A metal chain that was —Amber deftly traced the metal to feel soft cartilage— his earring.
Damn it.