The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

Twenty Six

She doesn't like the traffic but she does like the music she's blasting, the jalapeno chips she's eating, and the time she has to think to herself.

At a gallery in Maplewood, she's surrounded by art, but her mind drifts. Harry had texted her a painting earlier today that he saw at the Mori Art Museum

[4:59 am, her time]

Harry: Made me think of you. Chaotic, but it works.

It was something abstract, full of color. So, now she looks for pieces that feel like him.

She's good at these errands, but secretly resents how they pull her away from time she could've spent daydreaming. She pauses in front of a massive oil painting; thick brush strokes, moody blues and greens. She knows that Harry has paintings similar to this palette so she sends him a photo of it. Her stare lingers a little too long, and the owner of the gallery clears their throat to get her attention and hand her the documents she came for, snapping her back to the task at hand.

-

Since Vinetria was spending a lot of time helping her mom at the gallery, she got well acquainted with Ian, the tall, sharp featured model with a quick wit. He looks a lot better with clothes on, she thinks as he's leaning against the desk in the lobby, scrolling on his phone.

Vinetria flops onto a stool, groaning.

"Long day?" He smirks.

"Understatement."

They end up laughing over a particularly pretentious artist who insisted his sculptures "spoke to the cosmos." Vinetria laughs so hard she nearly spills her tea, and Ian points at her, grinning.

"Finally! You're human. Not just the mystery girl with the permanent poker face." She rolls her eyes, but her smile lingers.

Ian makes the days go by faster. What usually feels like an eternity, now feels like a few hours at work and she hasn't walked in on him naked since.

They started spending their lunch breaks together; going down to the Mediterranean place a few streets over, gossiping about pop culture and comparing music taste. He notices when she zones out, sighs, or smiles at her phone. "Ah, mystery boy," He teases but he never pries too much.

They slip into an easy friendship, the kind where he becomes the first person she texts to vent about daily annoyances and he's always there to listen.

-

It's been a week.

A week since she heard Harry's voice. A week since she smelled his cologne and it clung to her skin like it belonged to her. A week since she saw his smile -in person because he sent her a cute photo of himself with Sanrio characters at the Sanrio Puroland.

Harry had noticed Vinetria's My Melody sticker on the back of her phone case so when he saw a cute little keychain that he thought she might like, he grabbed it and immediately checked out. The lifesize plushie would have been too big to travel with and he wasn't 100% sure that she even liked this character, or if she just liked the sticker that someone may have given her.

One week without seeing her and he felt like his heart was seizing. The long meetings, conference calls, and business lunches had kept him busy but in between those moments, he'd checked the time to calculate what time it was back home and he'd wonder what Vinetria was doing. He missed her voice. He missed the smell of her perfume and how he'd still smell it on his shirt after they'd hug. A week without seeing her smile -in person because she had sent him a picture of a metal sculpture and asked his opinion on it but all he could focus on was her distorted figure and bright smile that was evident in the reflection.