Muse [18+] • REVISING

31 | Motions

Cordelia finds her way into the closet and gently pushes me out of the way, making me sit down on the cushioned ottoman placed in the middle of the spacious wardrobe. I groan but am too drained to protest whatever she has planned and so I just watch her go through a couple of drawers, grabbing the complete opposite of leisurewear.

She turns around to look at me, gesturing for me to follow her into the bathroom. Dragging myself through another doorway, Cordelia places the clothes she picked out onto one of the counters and pulls a towel from a bamboo rack. I laugh, observing her every move as she is slyly making it known she's in charge here. Leaning against the edge of the bathtub, I wait for her to continue spewing instructions.

"You're going to shower and I'm going to be waiting for you downstairs," she turns around and huffs out the demand. "Make it quick."

She is in one of her I'm-a-determined-woman moods and so I simply reply, "Yes, ma'am."

We both nod at each other in agreement and before leaving, she pauses to look around the room and shakes her head at every new detail she finds. She had the same look on her face when I first entered the house. There are so many intricacies to fall in love with, so many elements despite every room being quite bare. Only one person could ever put this much thought, this much perfection into something. Why they'd ever chosen to leave, was still a question I had yet to answer.

"I can't believe he left you his frickin' house," she stands by the bamboo doors in awe. "There's no way..."

Her voice trails off and she doesn't finish her thought, although there is already a glut of things I've made up in my head to do it for her. The list begins and ends with, there's no way you two weren't meant to be together. I don't follow through with asking her what she was going to say.

I only respond with, "I mean, the man broke my heart. It was the least he could do."

The joke is somewhat lighthearted, somewhat painful, however, it makes the both of us laugh and as she gives me the same soft smile from before, in the midst of feeling like my world has ended, I am thankful to have her around.

❦

It took no more than thirty minutes for Cordelia to wake me up, force me into the shower, make myself somewhat presentable to the world, and get me out of the house. The only bare clue I was given as to where we were going was a cryptic sentence, somewhere along the lines of, "This might make things clearer for you." I sink into the passenger seat and let her drive us wherever she wants.

I ended up falling asleep for the duration of the drive and I feel Cordelia nudge me awake when we're in a tiny parking lot with less than four cars. Exiting the car, I try to look around and make sense of our surroundings until my eyes finally land on a black building behind me. I walk beside Cordelia and as we get closer to the unfamiliar edifice, there are faded words on the glass entrance—Musée Dupont.

Turning to her, I shoot her an inquisitive look as the name is not a foreign one.

"Hmm?" I question through mouthy noise and she only pulls the door open for me to walk inside.

Getting acquainted with the obscure place, it is significantly smaller than the only museum I'm used to and it isn't as adorned with huge sculptures or renovated with modern decorations. I can only describe it as quaint and cozy, something nostalgic of the '50s and possibly a routine place where old lovers might find themselves every weekend. There is only the lobby and then a curved hallway with dimmed lights and carpet-clad walls made up of framed paintings. I also notice a single record player is sitting at the beginning of the hall, playing none other than Édith Piaf. Cordelia is already ahead of me, talking to someone at the front desk who she seems to know.