memento vivere

eight // ❝ camila was the best art in a world dominated by art ❞

i suggested we go to an art museum. the money was on me. i would be an imbecile if i would allow a girl like camila pay for our trip that we embarked on together. there was something good that i wanted to witness, that was why i brought us here after crashing at the motel. it was an early afternoon and it seemed that this city had more than just motels that were suited for two girls who wanted the privacy all to themselves.

we parked somewhere distant from the art museum due to the colossal amount of people who also decided that a saturday was a compatible day to visit the art museum. but that was not the case, i came with camila and that was what i cared about for today. upon making through the entrance, camila's eyes grew twice the size which i thought was actually impossible. i could not tear my eyes away from her—from her reaction. camila's hands covered her mouth and she lets out a low and subtle squeal.

“oh, my god. oh, my god. oh, my god,” she said and it came out as muffled.

i inserted both of my hands on my pockets and trailed behind her as she went to the first painting that snatched her recognition. i was not a fan myself when it came to art, paintings and everything that concluded that but seeing camila's joyous façade for today was the best thing ever. i never saw someone's eyes lit up with so much energy and enthusiasm until camila displayed that kind of emotions.

“i remembered seeing this when i was nine!” she pointed to the second painting she went to. i followed silently as a couple near us threw us an unforgiving gaze. i didn't consider that they were worth the fight so i ignored the immense stare they gave us. i was prideful that they knew what camila was to me, how she stood in my life as somebody who was not just a random girl from the other city.

i watched camila stare in awe at the art everywhere, it ate a lot of time and i barely noticed that because camila was just here with me.

“i'm sorry, are you bored?” camila turned to me with worried eyes. that was..unexpected. no one cared enough about my feelings and how was i doing with something certain. i thought people only managed their own feelings as if it were the only thing relevant to them. people i met showed me that attitude.

but camila didn't.

“nope. not one bit.” i smiled. correction, i smiled more because i was already smiling when she looked at me.

“you sure? all you did today was stare at me. look at the art everywhere!” the previous stimulation reinstalls back to her and i did not mind.

i walked closer to her and closed the proximity between us and attached my hands to her waist as her back was faced to my front. she didn't waste any more time to face me and our noses touch when she did that. i could feel her warm breath battling against my lips and i restricted the feeling of kissing her again. i dodged the thought of it and focused on her brown eyes instead. it was a light shade of brown under the chandelier of the museum and i grazed my thumb over her cheekbone.

“camila,” i whispered. “i love saying your name.”

“you're funny,” she said and laughs.

“no, really, your name is lovely. it's fucking gorgeous.” we don't move our bodies, just talking and we didn't care about the attention that we gained with what we're doing right now. i saw in my peripheral vision that a mother covered the eyes of her very young daughter, that made me roll my eyes.

“what is it?” she asked.

“you told me that i stared at you all day while there was art around us,” i began saying.

“yeah, i did. and?”

“you're the best art ever. your eyes are art. your body is art. your everything is art. your emotions are art to me. you may be flawed but you are the best art in this whole goddamn museum and nothing changes my mind.”

we kissed in front of the homophobic mother.

[ a/n: im gonna sacrifice my soul just to see and hear the 1975 live KDJSHDHKJ thanks for reading my shit <3 ]