Crooks and Castles

Chapter One

Q: What is the sweetest and the most important sound in any language to a person?
A: Their name.

"Valerie."

Angel's tone betrayed his cool. He sounded a little angry because the sight of his girlfriend entertaining a bunch of blonde men didn't look entertaining in his eyes.

They talked about literature and books and articles and actors and things he had no interest in.

A shout of laughter erupted as Valerie's eyes flicked over him. She raised an eyebrow as a smile crawled up her lips.

"Yes?"

"It's late. I think it's time to go home, don't you?" he murmured, before forcing a smile. A smile that looked intimate and passionate to any onlooker, but someone who stood as close to him as Valerie would see the anger in his eyes.

"No, I don't," she said without a second thought, flashing him her fake smile in return. "It's too early to be home."

Angel clenched his jaw and grabbed a glass of Dutch from a waiter. His girlfriend was being stubborn again and her conversation with the other men bored him to death. He knew nothing about classic novels, so he couldn't even pretend to be a part of it. He listened as the conversation shifted to art - a comfortable topic to him.

They were speaking about a famous painting by Dutch Master, Johannes Vermeer.

"It's amazing how no one knows the story behind that painting," Valerie pitched, her fire-coloured hair bounding with every movement she made. "Who is the girl? Was she real or an imagination?

"My inquiry is: was she turning away or towards us?" one man who wasn't blond said.

"She was turning towards us," Valerie answered. It was as if she couldn't wait to add something.

"You think so? What drives you to believe that? Do you have any evidence to back up your statement?"

Her lips were parted slightly.

The man chuckled. "Miss Valerie, you must not forget, this is a painting we're talking about and not a photograph. The lady was made by someone and not captured by a camera."

Angel's eyes rushed between them. The way they argued was hilarious. It was as if they were deciding if a zebra was white with black stripes or black with white stripes.

Valerie shifted, balancing herself. "As a creator, you do whatever you want to do with your creation. I think Vermeers wanted Griet to turn towards us. Hence, the parting of the lips."

"If it's the parting of her lips that makes you so inflexible about your view, great. But what if I said you can speak to someone while turning away from them? Would that widen your belief?"

The crimson-haired lady smiled. Angel knew that smile. It was the look she gave before she dragged someone down.

"Well, it seems you already had your answer. Why did you have to bother us and ask?"

The man nodded.