𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐧𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

0:5

I leaned over the table, taking the white mug out of Noel's hands and offering him napkins in an effort to help him. "Are you okay? Did you burn yourself from the hot tea?"

After recollecting himself and finding his words, he looked over at me with a face of uncertainty. "No, no, I'm fine. I was just a bit startled is all."

I sat back in my chair and took his word for it, taking another sip from my own mug. There was a small moment of silence between us and I struggled to make conversation, running around ideas of what I could say to ease the situation. "So you say you're an artist? What type of paintings or sculptures do you enjoy doing?"

Noel flashed his eyes at me. "I'm mostly into expressionistic painting, yeah. The only way I can relax is by painting - it was my first love. I was good at both drawing and painting when I was a kid, then while I was at art school, I realized that I was more obsessed with concepts more so than images." He used his hands when he talked to emphasize his explanation. "It's a break from the anxiety that comes with comedy and all that - kind of like a therapy. I do try and combine art and comedy, of course. I think my art sits somewhere in the middle of the two. I just see painting as a way to express my feelings and relate them to wild colors and shapes. "

"Is that how life is like through your eyes? Wild, vivid, and colorful?"

"Sort of! I don't see any point in viewing life with dull colors. It's way too short to be boring and spending time focusing on the lingering darkness."

"Who are some of your favorite painters? Your inspirations?" I asked, since he appeared to speak passionately about art.

Noel sat up and perched his elbow on the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "I rather love Magritte, Dalì, and Jean-Michel Basquait. They've got this surrealistic, art deco vibe that I could stare at for hours. They're the holy trinity of artists for me, without a doubt." He smiled again after he spoke, making his eyes crinkle. "Their paintings are a bit like poems, aren't they? It's quite amazing."

In the short time we've spent together, one of the most prominent things I noticed about him was that he loved to smile. If it weren't for serious conversations or situations, I'm sure he would have a permanent grin on his face. I could tell that he had a lot of happiness within him.

"Spoken like a true artist," I replied. "Have you seen the current exhibition focusing on 20th century art at the museum yet?"

He looked me in the eyes and I could see a glint in them. "No I've not gotten the chance to yet! Let's go, me and you sometime, yeah? Could be great fun."

I eagerly agreed, as I had been curious to view the exhibition myself. The thought of skipping class soon completely vanished from my worries. The energy he gave off was so much fun to be around, it made me wonder why someone this lovely would even want to spend their free time with someone like me. I felt as though he had greater things to do.

Noel talked about his creative process and soon had me laughing over some of his methods where he would dance around to music "like a maniac" or play dress up in various costumes to "get into character." Noel's favorite, though, was a combination of the two, of which he called a "theatrical act."

As my laughter was subsiding, I felt Noel's eyes on me. The two of us held each other's gaze just a beat longer than we ever had before. His eyes were so blue, so piercing, I felt my heart beating faster. If he could have read my mind in that moment, he would have known just how attractive I found him. I didn't know exactly what to make of this, but I got the feeling that something had just started between us. Something had just been set in motion. I couldn't define it, but I felt it, every bit as subtle as it was lasting. And whatever it was, it would stay with me long after I broke the spell and looked away. I was certain, however, of what I didn't want it to be.