Exploding Hearts (bxb) | ✔

N I N E T E E N

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OLIVER FLETCHER

PAST
MAY 2019

"How do I look?" Max questions as he emerges from his bathroom, his hands adjusting his black tie. My eyes gravitating to his fingers covered in rings, then to his luscious suit and gorgeous face.

I smile as I perch up on his bed. "Looking as handsome as ever," I comment.

Max grins in my direction as he straightens out his blazer and fixes his cuffs. "Not as handsome as you," he responds.

My head instantly shakes towards him as I push myself up from the bed and stand directly in front of him. "Today's not about me," I say as I swipe my hand across his shoulder gently. "It's about you and you look amazing."

He leans down to catch my lips in a sweet kiss, taking my hand in his as he smiles. "Thanks for coming," he nods.

"Of course," I say instantly. "I wouldn't miss coming to see your final work for the world."

"We should go," Max presses one final kiss to my lips. "I don't want to be late."

Max's hand pulls my body out of his room and downstairs, taking the short walk to campus towards the art auditorium. I could tell he was nervous but I didn't want to point it out, although being nervous was completely normal.

Having a lot of people view your work is a scary experience, especially to your friends and your boyfriend. But I knew how talented he was and that he had nothing to worry about.

Campus was heaving with parents, students, and teachers. Everyone wanted to come and see the exhibition, they were third years and it was a perfect opportunity for inspiration. I know that I'm definitely keeping my mental notepad out.

Max locates some of his course friends, I had met a few of them before but it was nice to see them all together one last time. Sharing what they all loved so equally.

Their head of department makes a speech, congratulating everyone on their hard work. Expressing his gratitude for their determination to create the best pieces of art imaginable. Max's hand links through mine and he squeezes gently as we listen to the speech.

After five or so minutes we are free to look around the auditorium and admire the art pieces. Max stops to look at a painting but I carry on walking, my eyes catching the attention of his name across the room.

I couldn't stop my wandering eyes, looking over every little illustration that Max had created. The detail and definition was like no other, clean and cut. Crisp to the dot. Everything about it looked perfect, no wobbly lines or mistakes.

The piece was a comic book sketch, travelling from one side of the page to the other. Even though the only colours used was a black pen and grey shading, it looked vibrant to me. Some of the drawings looking three dimensional as they jump out of the page.

Nothing could tear my eyes away from this masterpiece, and yet he was scared for people to see.

A hand is pressed to the small of my back, I turn my head as Max's shoulder lightly budges mine. "Max," I say quietly. "This is honestly amazing."

He shrugs and looks away from his own work. "It's alright, I guess."

"You guess?" I say in disbelief, my mouth hanging open. "You could be an illustrator for an animated film or an actual comic book. Max this is beyond perfect."