Lost and Found (wlw) (txs)

Part 3

Delilah and Mrs.Alvarez had met up after class to talk about the painting.

And the blonde had asked her professor to describe her wife's soul and personality to see if she can add a few things to match her soul and everything. 

Mrs. Alvarez's eyes softened as she spoke of her wife, Scarlett.

She described Scarlett's kind heart, her radiant smile, and the way her eyes sparkled with joy.

Delilah listened intently, committing every detail to memory.

Armed with inspiration, Delilah retreated to her studio, a cozy corner of her room filled with canvases, paints, and brushes of all sizes.

She spent hours pouring her heart and soul into the portrait of Scarlett, channeling her love and admiration for Mrs. Alvarez into every brushstroke.

Finally, after days of meticulous work, Delilah stepped back to admire her creation.

The portrait captured Scarlett's essence perfectly – her warmth, her beauty, her spirit. Delilah knew it would bring joy to Mrs. Alvarez every time she looked at it.

With the finished portrait carefully wrapped in her arms, Delilah made her way to Mrs. Alvarez's classroom.

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the quaint halls as she walked. When she arrived, Mrs. Alvarez welcomed her with open arms, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"Delilah, you have no idea how grateful I am for your kindness," Mrs. Alvarez exclaimed, taking the portrait from her hands.

She unwrapped it slowly, her breath catching as she gazed upon the image of her beloved Scarlett.

Tears welled up in Mrs. Alvarez's eyes as she traced the delicate lines of Scarlett's face with her fingertips. "It's perfect," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "You've captured her spirit so beautifully."

Delilah smiled, her heart swelling with happiness. "I'm so glad you like it, Mrs. Alvarez.Scarlett sounds like an incredible person."

Mrs. Alvarez nodded, her eyes never leaving the portrait. "She is. And now, thanks to you, her spirit will fill our home with love and warmth."

After their interaction,Delilah was sure that since she gave her professor the painting,her professor would be smiling but wrong.

Mrs. Alvarez swept into her Spanish classroom with the cold precision of a winter breeze.

Her stern demeanor preceded her, casting a frosty atmosphere over the room.

The students, accustomed to her chilly presence, exchanged nervous glances as they prepared for another day of linguistic challenges.

Seated at their desks, the students waited in apprehension for Mrs. Alvarez to begin her lesson.

She moved with purpose, her heels clicking against the tiled floor, each step echoing in the silence.

With a swift motion, she placed her bag on her desk and turned to face the class, her piercing gaze scanning the room.

"Good morning, class," she greeted in a tone that offered no warmth. "We have much to cover today."

She began distributing worksheets without preamble, her motions efficient and devoid of any personal interaction.

The students accepted their assignments in silence, knowing better than to question her methods.

The atmosphere in the classroom grew heavier with each passing moment, weighed down by the weight of Mrs. Alvarez's expectations.

As the lesson progressed, Mrs. Alvarez prowled the room, her eagle-eyed scrutiny causing a ripple of anxiety among the students.