Page 94 of Rivals
While she’s getting ready in the bathroom, I watch the stove heat the pot, and my mind trails off to last night. I love this woman. I love her so much it physically hurts. I know it would hurt less if I just said the words, but I still don’t think she’s ready to hear them. I still don’t think she won’t sprint the other way if I give them to her. But I think she may be close, which gives me hope, and I’m starting to like how it feels to have it.
***
The ruins were unbelievable, but I’m more excited about the Borghese Galleria. When we got into the gallery, we beelined for the sculptures exhibit. “Lachlan, slow down. I want to see the other stuff.”
“We will. I just—I really want to see it.” Revna grins and shakes her head, and I hurry in, following the signage. One of my favorite sculptures is David by Michelangelo, but this gallery has David by Bernini. The general motion of the sculpture is dynamic and intense. It lends a different perspective to the story of David and Goliath. Michelangelo’s version is more of a David contemplating what he’s up against. But the Bernini version is him in action, doing what he needs to do to survive.
I walk around it so many times I get dizzy. Revna tilts her head in front of his face as she studies his intense expression. The marble is sanded so smoothly it looks almost life-like. The deep expression on his face is so provoking it makes you want to look in the same direction to see what he does. It’s every bit more beautiful in person than it is in pictures. The blood in my veins sparks, and my brain feels like it’s floating on a cloud. I feel inspiration tingling up my spine, and I know we have to do something with sculpture. Revna shut it down because her attempt at the wax block was not great. But seeing this, it feels like we have to. It calls to me.
“It’s beautiful,” Revna says in awe. I agree and reach for her. It’s become an automatic response lately. I just want to touch her. I like the way her hand feels in mine. And if I move my two fingers over her wrist, I can feel her pulse. If I say something she likes, it leaps out to me like it wants more.
We walk around to see the other beautiful sculptures, carvings, and busts that have stood the test of time. The workmanship is astounding. They did it with hand tools as opposed to today, where electrical tools are common.
“Seeing these and the fountain in person helps me understand why you love sculpture so much. They’re captivating. It’s like someone was captured in time and stayed frozen until the artist was done.”
“Well, they kind of did,” I say, pointing to the busts. She rolls her eyes because she knows I’m right.
“I was talking about David,” she quips.
“I know.” I grin at her, and we make our way towards the collection of paintings from various eras. They are compelling in how dramatic they are. The deep pigments and the aesthetic way their clothes are draped over their bodies. It doesn’t take us long to finish going through the space. Other than David, nothing seems to pique interest for either of us.
“The way they painted was so interesting then. Seeing how they translated what they saw into art is pretty amazing.”
“It is, but you don’t seem very inspired by it.” The corner of her mouth tips up.
“I’m not really, but I can certainly appreciate it. Are you inspired by anything other than David, of course? I saw the look on your face.” My face goes hot for a moment as we walk out the doors.
“I can’t believe I got to see it in real life. But other than that, no. Um…” I pause. It’s bringing up an old idea, but we have all these tours and events scheduled and not much time to make anything. “I think we should do something with sculpture.” Her mouth opens like she’s about to say something, then she closes it. “Hear me out. I know you aren’t partial to the medium, but it feels like it would be a good thing to do. I think it would make us stand out.”
She purses her lips, looking out over the ornate courtyard, then back at me. “I hear what you’re saying, Lachlan, but the last thing I want is for you to do most of the work. The other problem is we would have to do something pretty big to stand out, and there is no way we could do that and be done in time for the gala.”
I consider what she’s saying. It took me an entire semester to do a ten-inch block of marble. “Ok, so then what do you suggest we do?”
“I don’t know,” she says quietly. We have to agree on something; we just haven’t found it yet. But the clock is ticking, and it’s making me nervous. We’ve been here for two days, and all I have is an old idea.
“I think because we are here, it should be a painting. A homage to Rome.”
“We’ve done painting for every competition,” I grumble.
“The next few days may help since those frescos inspired some of our own work. Maybe they will inspire us again,” she says. I nod and rub my chin. She’s right. I take a deep breath and push my irritation down. It will all come together, eventually.
“I’m done with this. Want to ditch?” I ask her.
Revna grins. “Yeah, let’s go explore,” she says excitedly. We hurry down the stairs like rebel high schoolers on a field trip and race through the pristine garden where the city opens in multiple directions.
“I’m hungry, let’s find a cafe?” Revna shrugs as she looks at her phone while we walk. I pull her to my side before she runs into the man walking straight towards us. “Revna, watch out.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles and keeps looking at her phone. I keep looking for a café and see one further up the street. I snatch the phone out of her hand. “Hey!” she yells. I glance at the screen before I lock it, and I try to hide my surprise at the search for Narcotics Anonymous. I want to ask her about it so badly, but it could make her reconsider, so I keep my mouth shut. I’m not saying I’m perfect. I’m far from it. But in my mind, this is a sign that we have taken the steps in the right direction.
I stop at the café and open the door for her. “Are you going to give me my phone?” she asks.
“No, I want you to pay attention to me.” The glorious smell of the bakery fills my nose, and my stomach rumbles in protest.
“You are very needy,” she quips.
I pull her by the waist while we stand in line and lean down to her ear. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the needy one.” She shivers in my hold, and her hands tense on my arms. I chuckle and kiss her temple.
“That’s not fair,” she grumbles.
