The room was filled with comforting silence. Lila, seated at the large table, humming quietly to herself as she sketched out new designs for a fashion show project of her college department. Every stroke she makes as the pencil gliding across the paper was precise and careful. At the far corner of the clubroom, shelves were lined with pots and tools, Jaxon immensely worked at the potter's wheel. The gentle squishing sound as the clay in the wheel is being shaped and smoothened by his huge hands meticulously, molding it into a delicate form, blended with Lila's soft hum. My hand unconsciously halted from brushing the canvass, mid-stroke. I glanced over the two who are both locked in their world.
Lila and Jaxon are both art majors, but they seemed to have chosen different specializations. Lila thrived in the world of fashion design, her vibrant sketches are eye-catching and innovative, it reflected her dynamic personality. Meanwhile, Jaxon was into pottery, contrasting his rough and edgy appearance, when he's in front of the potter's wheel, his fastidious attitude comes out when molding the clay.
It had almost been a week since I joined the Artisan's Den, yet somehow, it felt as though I'd been part of this family a bit longer. The others welcomed me warmly, and even their worry wasn't fake, that I didn't have a hard time blending in with them.
Most of the members of Artisan's Den came from the Art Major program, except for Keiran and me, as we are both Psychology Majors. I discovered this when we went back in the clubroom that day after I caused a chaotic incident, however, Keiran was attending the afternoon class instead which explained why I never crossed paths with him, aside from the fact that I don't give a damn to anyone who. Despite our different fields of study, we both shared a passion for creativity and a desire to explore the artistic process, something that the original Karina won't pursue because she loves to express her artistry with writing.
I chuckled, shook my head, a smile tugging my lips as I returned my attention to my painting. The soft gentle breeze brushed my cheeks, carrying an earthy and subtle floral hint of the huge oak tree outside the opened glass window of the clubroom. Sunlight streamed in, casting playful shadows of the oak tree leaves across the room, dancing lightly with the cooling breeze.
"I've been a fan ever since I came across your column. But I realized that whatever form of art you choose to express yourself, you're quite consistent." Keiran's tone was teasing when he spoke behind me.
I stopped for a moment and turned to him, frowning. "What do you mean by that?"
He chuckled, "Your feelings are always transparent whether you're writing or painting."
"How so? I'm only painting a field of flowers." I looked at him, quite amused.
Keiran locked his eyes on my unfinished canvass, and in a softened voice, he describes what he thinks of it. "The woman sitting on the hill, face hidden with her back facing us, tells me that she's carrying her own secrets, her own heartache, not letting anyone see it, gazing at the field of forget-me-nots that stretched as far as the eyes could see. Her face was concealed, but perhaps, she was thinking of someone who was already gone or holding onto a promise that she refuses to slip away, something that was carved deep within her soul."
Keiran paused for a moment and gazed at me.
"It was said, that forget-me-nots symbolizes memory, love, or devotion. It's an epitome of a lasting bond that transcends time and distance." He took a deep breath and gazed back at the painting with a sweet smile on his lips. "Look at how she's sitting alone in the vast sea of blue. She's alone yet the flowers seem to embrace her from this angle, as if they're keeping her company, reminding her that she's not forgotten, -or it could be the other way around." He looked at me with indescribable expression, a mix of empathy and understanding.
"She's reminding them that they are not forgotten." He concluded.
I chuckled at his detailed explanation. He really had a way of seeing beyond the surface, uncovering concealed emotions that I hadn't fully realized were there.
"Then would you mind telling me, what feeling does my painting evoke?"
He had an empathic smile on his lips, as if waiting for me to ask that question.
"Longing."
I laughed, -one that makes me feel bare and vulnerable as if all my secrets were exposed. In moments like this, I hate how similar he is to my twin, -always on point in cracking the code of my unspoken emotions. I despise it, yet I can't help but feel grateful. Despite not being born into the same family in this world, he still understands me so well.
"You're quite creepy, Quin." Lila remarked, breaking the heavy mood between us. Keiran's eyes widened in surprise.
"Me? Creepy?" he asked, pointing at himself with a disbelief look on his face.
"Yes." Jaxon agreed, continuing to work on his pottery.
"Why? I'm not wrong though? That's how the painting appears to me." Keiran tried to explain. Lila put down her scissors and looked at us.
"From my point of view, you sounded like a stalker." Her brutally honest response made Keiran gasped with exaggeration.
"Stalker?!" Keiran clutched his chest this time, as if he had been struck by a bullet. He even staggered back dramatically, pouted as he cupped his face with both hands, eyes were wide, making them sparkle with innocence. "You're hurting my feelings. How could you call someone who has this kind of face" - He turned his head sideways, strike a pose, "a stalker?" he asked as he turned his gaze back at Lila.
Lila's jaw dropped with the scissors she was holding, while Jaxon and I couldn't help but shook our heads, as Keiran cupped his face again, fluttering his lashes to appear adorable. Lila on the other hand, scrunched her nose and grimaced, her lips curling in revulsion as she watched him.
"I'm starting to regret bringing Rin here." Lila glanced between us with exaggerated worry, placed on her forehead dramatically as she added, "I should have noticed the signs. The clues are all over the place!" She exclaimed as she pointed at the paper clips of the original Karina's column, adorning Keiran's motivation board.
"Hey! I told you, I'm her number one fan!" This time, Keiran tried to refute.
"That's what stalkers say all the time." Jaxon interjected, a smirk forming on his lips.
I couldn't help but laugh at them. Like always, the twin saved me again in an awkward situation. I put my brush down and asked them to have a late lunch so they would stop their playful banters.
"Shall we go for lunch?"
The three turned at me with sparkling eyes, their expressions looked animated that I couldn't help but laugh. They instantly stopped their banter, fixed themselves and cleaned up their work station, and followed me as I headed out to the school cafeteria.
As we walked through the bustling hallway filled with laughter and chatter. The cafeteria was almost full due to the wave of students from the department of Kinesiology, flooding in after class, and the distinct smell of coffee wafting through the air as we passed near the café stand. We joined the line, scanning the menu on the board.
"What are you having?" A baritone voice whispered behind me. I turn my head just to meet Kairos' charming smile, looking effortlessly handsome. He looked like as if he just stepped out of shower, droplets of water are still glistening in his tousled hair. He is wearing a simple white shirt, hugging his muscular build, paired with black track pants.
Seeing him up-close made me realize something. Kairos has a striking yet approachable appearance. He rarely styles his neck-length, jet black hair, nonetheless, it doesn't make him look bad at all, in fact, it only makes him more charismatic. He has a natural sleepy eye, enhanced by long lashes and irises tinged with deep, warm golden-brown shade. He has sharp features, but it was rare for him to look intimidating, probably because he smiles a lot. His relaxed demeanor makes him easy to approach, drawing people near him, ironic to his character in my world, where everyone is avoiding him.
I looked away when I noticed the grin drawn on his lips. One trait of his that sometimes I find annoying is that whether he is teasing someone with only a smirk, or remaining silent with tightly sealed lips when mad, Kairos' expressions often speak louder than his words, just like right now.
"I thought you quit?" I asked, instead of answering his question.
"I was bored so I went there to spar." He answered in a casual tone, before ordering the same food as mine - spaghetti marinara and iced lemon tea. Knowing him by now, I believe that he's just lazy checking the menu so he asked for the same thing as what I am having, because he doesn't seem to be someone who would like pasta.
When everyone got their food, we maneuvered through the crowded tables, finally spotting an empty one by the window. I sat beside the twins, while Kairos and Keiran sat across from us, leaving one empty chair.
"How come you're still here?" Kairos asked before taking a big bite with his food, which made me doubt if my assumption was wrong that he just copied what I had.
"Club activities." I answered simply, twirling graciously the pasta around my spoon, before taking a bite with finesse. I savored the rich flavors, letting the sauce linger on my palate as I glanced at Lila and Jaxon, who had an amused expression on their faces. "What?"
"I just noticed it since it's my first time having lunch with you, but Jaxon was right when he told me that you have this regal vibe about you." Lila stated, with her fork suspended mid-air as if caught in a realization. Her eyes sparkled, a mixture of intrigue and amusement was clearly written in it.
"You carry yourself with elegance, almost as if you belong to a noble family. It's quite refreshing and amusing though, to see someone who can eat a normal spaghetti looked elegant."
"I agree. Even her taste in drinks were out of this world." Jaxon agreed, his face twisted in distaste as if he recalled the tea he had tried.
"Why?" Keiran asked with genuine curiosity, as he glanced between Jaxon and I. "Rin is addicted to coffee, and you are too." He added before taking a bite into his sandwich. "If my memory serves me right, you both like macchiato." He paused, shifting his gaze at Lila who kept mouthing the word stalker at him.
"Macchiato my ass! She always drinks that murky green thing." Jaxon shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. It was clear that he remembered the countless times that he drank tea, because of his habit of drinking from my cup without asking first.
I chuckled as I brought the napkin to my mouth in a subtle manner, my movements were smooth and unhurried, like how I learned it in my world. It made my friends shake their heads as they watched me act like a noble lady despite my humble origin that they knew. When I looked up, I unexpectedly met Kairos' gaze, and to my surprise, he was mirroring my actions with the same level of finesse.
"What about him?" I pointed at Kairos. "He was doing the same."
"He was already like that when I befriend him." Keiran responded before finishing his chicken avocado sandwich.
I was about to ask how did they became friends when I saw a figure approaching us. Someone that I didn't really want to see while I'm with my friends, especially with Keiran around. My smile faded instantly, hatred slowly filling up my chest. A familiar knot of irritation twisted inside me, which made me clenched my jaw involuntarily. My eyes narrowed as he drew closer, wearing a smile that I wanted to erase with my bare hands.
The savory food now tasted bland, as I forced myself to keep my expression for Keiran's sake, but the very sight of him woke up the rage within me from its deep slumber. Seeing him again, brought back too many detestable memories -not the one I had in my world, but rather the one that Karina left behind, a cruel gift if I may say. I don't know where he got the nerve to show up in front of me again after everything he did to the original Karina.
"Rina...May I join you?" In a smooth voice, he asked. It was too smooth for someone who had once shattered someone's heart with no remorse, calling me by that person's nickname.
While my friends remind me of the forget-me-not field, filling me with warmth and longing. Achilles Dimitri reminds me of the cold, sharp, and unyielding blade of the guillotine that killed me. The sight of him evokes a deep aversion within me.