Chapter Text
Astera looked up at the painting that loomed above her. It was spectacular. A red arm jutted out from the bottom left corner of the canvas. Directly on the wrist, a cut had been inflicted. Yellow blood poured down the arm, coating it in its golden glory. Something about it stood out to Astera. Maybe it was something about the colors not fitting perfectly together, maybe it was the red matching her newly dyed hair and her complementing maroon jacket, maybe it was the emotions the colors made her feel; or maybe she was just overthinking it. Astera smiled, continuing to look up at the painting. She let the museum's faint smell of wood and chilly air conditioning sink in. Astera sighed peacefully.
“ Beautiful, isn't it? “
Astera gasped, the masculine voice had shaken her out of her comforting world. She turned to face the person who had spoken. He stood far taller than Astera, which was admittedly not a hard feat to achieve. A waterfall of black hair flowed from his head, stopping slightly below his shoulders, brushing against his blue woolen sweater. He wore square glasses fitted in a dark orange frame, his nose was small, his glasses lightly resting on them. He had light skin and a soft smile.
The man turned his attention from the painting to Astera. His words flowed calmly from his lips like a river,
“ I apologize, did I startle you? “
Astera shook her head,
“ No, no! It's okay- I was just- “
She chuckled,
“ Immersed, I guess. “
The man smiled and nodded, turning his attention back to the painting,
“ Art can do that. Even without a clear meaning, something about this piece, it gives a sense of comfort, “
He shook his head, continuing.
“ Truly fascinating isn't it? “
Astera turned to the painting. She nodded slowly,
“ Yeah, I guess, though I don't know if I'd call it comforting“
She chuckled, then turned to the man,
“ Do you paint? “
The man turned to her in surprise, but seemed to enjoy the question,
“ Well, yes, but not like this. I do appreciate the art form. The piece, despite how interpretable it is, evokes very clear emotions. “
Astera smirked,
“ So what are you, some sort of critic? “
The man shook his head,
“ No, the arts are just a small passion of mine. “
Astera nodded,
“ Yeah I get that. I tried drawing a few times, but it's just so- “
She clenched her fist and sighed,
“ I'm sorry, what's your name? “
“ There is nothing to apologize about! My name is Asim, and you? “
“ That's a nice name, I'm Astera. “
Asim nodded,
“ It is a pleasure to meet you, Astera! “
Astera smiled,
“ You too, Asim. “
They both turned to the painting. They examined it silently for a moment. A feeling of calm washed over Astera yet again. Just as it had been the first time, a sudden noise to her right disturbed her. A short ping from Asim’s pocket knocked both people out of their trance. Asim’s hand quickly darted to his pocket, where he dug up a phone.
He looked at it and frowned,
“ I apologize Astera, but I must be going, “
His tone shifted, his frown inverting to a small smile,
“ Thank you for indulging in this discussion with me! I eagerly await our next meeting. “
Before Astera could formulate a response, Asim was walking away. She smiled at him, and quietly muttered,
“ Bye. “