Lauren set down her glass. The clink against the marble was a period at the end of a sentence. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them until Kenma could smell her perfume—smoke, amber, and something sharp like crushed mint.
“Don’t you want to see the rest of the exhibit?” Lauren asked.
“I know,” Lauren replied, taking a sip of her wine. “Isn’t it beautiful?” -Transfixed- Kenna James- Lauren Phillips- Jade...
“You’re not supposed to be here either,” Kenma whispered, though it wasn’t a question.
Kenma’s eyes fluttered shut for just a second. When she opened them, Jade was on her other side, boxing her in with warmth and shadow. Lauren set down her glass
“It’s whether you can,” Jade finished softly.
And in the hush of the empty gallery, under the gaze of paintings that saw nothing and knew everything, Kenma James remained exactly where she was—transfixed between two points of gravity, with no intention of ever drifting free. “Don’t you want to see the rest of the exhibit
The gallery was closed. The lights were dimmed to a soft, amber glow that dripped from the sconces like honey. She’d only stayed behind to retrieve her forgotten scarf—a thin, silken thing now twisted around her fingers. But as she turned to leave, her heel clicked on the marble floor, and the sound echoed into a side corridor she’d never noticed before.
