Pandora's Box

Chapter 18

Spring, 2016
The Leigh Gallery
Chicago

People often say that time heals all wounds. Rhys begged to differ. How often had he heard that? Anthony especially, consistently fought for the case that one day, Rhys would be happier, that he would forget Pandora even existed. And he had tried to believe him, he really did. He even kept all Pandora's pictures and memorabilia into a box, away from sight and actively did his best to push all thoughts of his ex-girlfriend out of his mind. 

But he had never been able to date. No girl enticed him. Anthony paraded a slew of girls, almost a buffet of them, but none of them managed to get Rhys to give them a second glance, no matter how hard they tried. Perhaps it was something about how extra broody he got after Pandora had left. Rhys had never been a ladies man before, but suddenly it was as if girls' couldn't get enough of him. Rumor around the CIA office was that he was a war torn hero. But only those within the CIASF office knew what had happened, and even Anthony finally admitted that Rhys was too far gone to help.

So really, it shouldn't be a surprise that he had dashed out of the office the moment the clock struck 6PM, and at 7PM, found himself seated in an art class, of all things. 

"Ah, you're... you're that man that I've seen before... Rhys, right?" she asked, the bright voice seemingly quite pleased with herself that she had remembered it correctly.

His heart swelled. At the back of his mind, he knew how ridiculous it was to be so deliriously happy over the simple fact that she had remembered his name, but he had spent two years dreaming of the very same voice calling his name. To actually get the chance to hear it in reality again... it had seemed like such a dream to him back then.

Composing his features in what he hoped was a neutral one, he smiled and nodded. "You remembered by name this time, Miss Talbott." he winked, grinning.

Pandora fought the flush that threatened to stain her cheeks. What was it about this boyish charm that this Asian male had, that captured her so? And here she was on a high from a wonderful dinner she had had just the night before with Desmond. He had regaled her with tales of his stories from when he took stories in war torn zones. Somehow, ever since her accident, Pandora had a fascination about adrenaline filled stories, so Desmond fed her curiosity and fancy for it. She had already admitted to Olivia that she may have a thing for this freelance journalist that she had met... so why was she completely ignoring the rest of her students, focused on the grin upon the bespectacled male's features?

"It would be a crime for me to forget it twice. I didn't know you were into ceramics and pottery." a bemused smile played on Pandora's lips.

In all honesty, Rhys didn't even notice up till now what class he had signed up for. Only at her reference, did he take in the pottery wheels set up at the front of the class, along with the various clay mixes set next to the wheels, and the not-so-beautiful clothes his fellow classmates seemed to be dressed in that weekday evening.

Quite unlike his buttoned white shirt and black jeans.

"Well, looks like my shirt isn't going to survive the night, is it?" he asked wryly, giving a hesitant look to Pandora. Her blue eyes danced with unvoiced laughter, and Rhys felt a pang in his heart, a longing for a time when he had always had the chance to hear that laughter as he held on to her in his arms.

"Lucky for you, I'm a nice teacher." she impishly replied, turning around to grab an apron off the hook, swinging it to hook it around his neck. "Here you go, should protect you from a bulk of the mess." Rhys's breath caught as she deftly reached around him to tie the knots of the apron. Suddenly, he was reminded of the countless of times he had held her in his arms, and it now itched to hold her again, to be reminded of how well her small frame fit into his lanky one, like two odd puzzle pieces just made for each other.