Akira
On reaching there I spot an elderly woman gazing at my painting. As if sensing my approach she speaks with giving me any glance.
"It is one of the beautiful painting in this room."
My heart squeezes in pride. "Thank you, mam."
She then looks at me. Her sharp, intelligent eyes regard me with scrutiny. "You are the painter?"
I nod, "Yes mam."
"You are young." She states, her eye moving to my boyfriend, who is checking his phone. He frowns at something and lets out a frustrated breath.
He turns to me. "I have to make a call. I will be quick, okay?"
What is bothering him?
"Okay." I repeat what he wants to hear. He plants a lingering kiss on my forehead before disappearing in between crowd, with his back rigid.
"Was that your boyfriend?"
I'm surprised at her question. "Yes he i
