Portrait of a Bad Boy ✓

Chapter 10: The Museum

With the help of Maria, the backyard was now lined with fairy lights. While a makeshift dinner table was set in the middle topped with candles and a vase full of flowers. His stomach turned as he glanced at the watch on his wrist before he looked up at the sky splashed with the colors of sunset.

Perfect.

Knock. Knock. His heart leaped into his throat before he hurried to the door. Lyla's eyes seem to glow in the late evening light. She wore a simple black strapless dress with a black bandana around her hair. "Hey."

"Hey." He held the door open. "Come right in."

She stepped into the living room with wide eyes. "This is your house?"

"Yeah," He rubbed the back of his head. "It is." He gave her a sheepish smile before he turned and hurried to the backyard door. "But what I want to show you is out here." Pulling the door open, he smiled at her gasp.

"Blake." She stepped into the backyard. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I wanted to." He smiled. "I know you've been through alot with your mother right now. I wanted to make sure you could at least relax." Taking her arm with his, he led her over to the table. "I'll be right back with our food." Blake grimace. "Be warned, my cook tends to make things very spicy."

Lyla smiled, "Well, it's a good thing I like spicy foods."

Blake laughed. "Yeah, well I've been trying to get her to tone it down but she threatened to make me cook for myself." He shuddered, causing her to laugh. Seeing the warmth in her gaze, heat rushed up his neck.

"I'll just..." He headed back into the kitchen, returning with pastéis de nata and bacalhau. "Here we have some pastéis de nata and bacalhau." Sitting down across from her, he watched her pick up a pastry.

Taking a bite, Lyla closed her eyes. "Hmm, this is amazing, Bake. Your chief did a really great job."

"I'll make a note to remind her." He reached for one of the pastry's himself. Taking a bit, he watched her gaze roam around the backyard before they landed on him again. Her shoulders hunched up before she avoided his gaze with a small smile.

"This was...really nice. Thank you.." Her gaze snapped to him. "Blake, about that kiss...I think...well I hope you know how I feel about you."

Blake's smile grew. "Yeah, me too." Lyla beamed efore she stood up and made her way around the table. Blake watched her sit down and turned to him. Her eyes stared up into his own before she looked away sheepishly.

"So, I was just thinking..." Her gaze snapped up to him. "Can we continue where we left off?" Blake nodded before cupping her face and closing the distance. His lips moved against hers while her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him even closer.

He could still taste the pastry on her lips while his hands held her waist. As the kiss deepend, her hand ran through his hair. He hummed in response, pulling apart to press his forehead against hers.

"So?" She ran her hand up his arm. "Are we a thing now?" She pressed a kiss against his lips.

"Hm, I like that idea." Another kiss.

"Then it's official?"

Blake reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's official."

*******

Blake glared at the roaring bus before the sound of his name grabbed his attention.

"Blake!" Mirna was sprinting toward him. Well sprinting as fast as she could with a boot around her ankle. "Olá Blake." She slowed to a stop. "I didn't think you would be here."

"My principal required me to come and write a report. Threatened to suspend me if I didn't." He glanced down at her ankle. "How's the ankle?"

"Pretty good." She smiled. "Parents took me to urgent care. They said I have to wear it for a few days but other than that I'll be as good as new. Why are we going to get suspended?"

"Got into a fight."

Mirna nodded. "Well, I hope you at least won." Blake snorted at that, before Mirna reached into the bag by her side. "So, how about sitting beside me because I don't feel like sitting beside a stranger?" She held up a bag. "I brought snacks."

"How much did you pack?" Blake laughed, causing her smile to widen.

"Have a Brazilian mom and you will never go hungry again." As they climbed onto the bus and sat down, she held out a bag of passatempo cookies. "Here, try these." Grabbing a handful of cookies, he ate one.

Everyone was filling in the bus now, taking up seats as they got ready to go. Mirna pulled out her mp3 player, holding up one of the buds to him. The bus rumbled and pulled away as the first song started to play.

As they pulled up to the museum, a tour guide was out to meet them. "Welcome, welcome to the Main Art Gallery." The man capped his hand, turning to lead the group of students, couples, and towns folk inside.

The lights were dim with spotlights shining down on the exhibits. The room was spacious leaving the ability to look at the art from all angles.

"Here." The tour guard stopped. "We have one of our local artists." The painting was a woman and child in an embrace. "This is called the love of a parent." The woman was faded and distant while the child was more defined. Only the silhouette was outlined in white.

"I feel like the mother isn't really there." Mirna pointed to her silhouette. "You see how the lines are not more defined into her silhouettes like the child's? I think it's the illusion of her being there."

As her words hit a lot more closer then he would like, Blake couldn't tear his eyes for the painting. "It seems like a lot of people long to feel their family's love." He grimaced at his word before he turned away. Instead, something brushed against his arm, causing him to look at Mirna.

"Come on." She gave him a soft smile. "Let's go join the others."

Joining the others, Blake found himself huddling in the back with Mirna, bouncing off each other's ideas and thoughts. The materials, the images, the strokes, they broke everything down, even the frame itself.

But the time they reached the statute section, Blake found himself enjoying the art gallery more than he thought he would. Turning toward Mirna, he froze. She was standing against the museum's window with her hand on her chest. Her eyes were starting out in thought, while everything else seemed to be frozen in time.

As her eyes turned to him, she smiled with pure warmth. Blake's hands itched for something to sketch as his eyes took in every minute, making sure to paint and treasure this moment in time.