Page 15 of Portrait of A Lost Artist

It’s only when ten strikes the clock that I have some time to sit back.

Olivia had been considerate enough to braid my hair after I had sweat it out while trying to decorate.

Tight and steady, I wish I could remove the blouse I had carelessly draped over my shoulders, like a jacket to cover the bralette underneath.

I knew that Alessia would ask for pictures, so I rummaged through my closet until I came face to face with a bralette that she insisted on buying me when we were back in Texas.

From the weight gain that comes with adulthood, I doubted it would fit me, but lo and behold, my tits hadn’t grown the slightest. Hence, I paired the shimmery blue top with oversized mom pants in a darker shade of blue to match the blouse I had put on.

I felt... too heated to be in this clothing.

Besides, the heels are killing me.

Blue has never been my lucky color, either.

I pick one of the spoons by the table up, for my phone isn’t doing me justice as a mirror in this lighting, but I fail at that, too.

I’m about to give up on looking great when I see a figure walking through the crowds of sweaty, dancing bodies.

Celia Cruz is playing in the background as Nathan makes his way between masses of people and God, I don’t know what to do at the moment.

As I start to panic, my first instinct is to get off the stool and turn around.

I begin inspecting the plates of food as if they are the most interesting things in the world.

I could be watching the Monalisa be painted by how harshly I glare at the table.

From what I had seen, Nathan had come to this party tonight to have all eyes on him.

To differentiate him, his brown strands of hair are locked inside the yellow beanie he has tossed on his head.

Dark eyebrows furrowed when inspecting the dance floor, his eyes squinted as if he was out in the sun.

Draped over his shoulders is a vibrant jacket adorned with floral patterns, its colors echoing the exuberance of spring.

He pairs it effortlessly with tailored beige pants that accentuate his long legs, while a sleek black t-shirt underneath adds a touch of understated elegance.

What truly commands attention is his imposing stature—he stands tall, exuding confidence and strength.

The broadness of his shoulders gives him a striking silhouette, and there's a playful curve at the corner of his mouth that captivates those around him, making anyone irresistibly drawn to the thought of sharing a kiss.

Matters that I had just seen seconds before I decided to hide.

However, as my fingers twitch against the cloth on the table, wondering if he had seen me, a presence stands beside me. Tossing one look over my shoulder, I see Nathan looking down at the plates in front of him. He grabs a guava cake bar, plopping the small treat inside his mouth before adding:

“Doesn’t work.”

My hands let go of the table as if it had caught on fire, and I turned to look at him with my arms crossed over my chest. I chuckle curtly. “Uh, what doesn’t work?”

“Hiding from me. I would recognize you in a room full of people.” I’m surprised to hear him pick up more words in Spanish, though he diverts his speech to English soon after. “It also is in my favor that you’re the only person I know here, but hey, let’s pretend I was sleek here.”

Nathan licks the corner of his mouth and a million sins dance through my mind. The kind of movements that mouth must do; over my mouth, my neck, any place that he wants to touch, should not be something crossing my mind.

“Sleek because you’re handsome. Anyone else who'd try to say that would creep me out.” I joke around, toying with the elastic at the end of my hair, keeping the braid together, as I toss my hair over my shoulder.

That motion caught his attention; his eyes drifted to my chest before returning to my face with a soft smile. “I wasn’t hiding, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Nathan jokes, rolling his eyes before picking a corner of his jacket to bring it up to his face. Only his orbits are shown through a small slit before he adds: “You were like this. I was about to go back home.”

“No...” I drag, tossing one look at the dance floor before clearing my throat. “So you told me you don’t drink in one of those letters, so I was thinking we could snack a bit, maybe dance after—”

“Snacks, yes,” Nathan sits down next to me, inviting me to sit across from him. Once I do, our legs touch; the heat from the pub pales in comparison to the warmth radiating from his thighs, intertwined with mine. “Dancing? Trust me, you wouldn’t want me to dance.”

“Too good?”

“Too bad.”

“Dancing comes naturally. You don’t have to be good at it.” I tell him, watching him pick another guava cake bar. “Diabetes is calling. They want you to call them back.”

“These are good. I heard from my friend that this is Guava. Would you believe me if I said I hadn’t had Guava in my whole life?” Nathan questions, only to have me humming.

“Probably. It’s a very Caribbean fruit.” Soon after, I’m spreading my hands in front of the table, as if to announce the cuisines ahead of us.

“These are all courtesy of Aseré. My mom made these based on Alessia’s favorite meals.

This is Cuban representation at their finest, and some burgers on the side. ”

“I’m avoiding those. I want to try the others first.”

“Better be quick. Latinos are known for eating a lot while drinking. They’ll be gone before you know it.” Nathan’s hand hovers on the plates before he grabs a small shot glass that includes arroz con leche . “That one is simple. We call it ‘arroz con leche’. Rice with milk.”

He dips the small spoon inside, opens his mouth, and uses his tongue to scoop the contents off while humming softly. “It’s nice. It tastes like it has cinnamon on it.”

“It’s nothing eccentric. I’d call it an appetizer.”

I pick up some fried yucca from the table, which is shaped like sticks, and pop a piece into my mouth. Just then, Nathan snatches it from my hand, dips it into arroz con leche, and devours the rest.

“Nathan!”

“What?”

“Those two shouldn’t go together.”

“Just try it. It adds some crunchiness to it.”

Much to his delight, he takes another yucca stick and dips it in another shot glass, placing it in front of my mouth.

I part my lips, biting one corner before wrinkling my nose. The saltiness of the yucca clashes with the sweetness of the milky rice.

“This is madness.”

Nathan chuckles at my words, though he tries the strange mixture again.

“So, whose birthday is it?”

“Alessia's. She's my best friend. The bright blonde with the even brighter yellow two-piece.” I tell him, twirling in the stool to point to him where she is dancing between two guys, hips swinging from side to side, one arm wrapped around one of their shoulders, the other holding a bottle of beer.

“I didn’t know what to bring her, but I’m willing to buy her a gift after...as in, giving it to her through you,” Nathan explains, but I shake my head.

“No need. I’m sure she won’t mind, and you’re here to meet some people, not to force connections.” I smile at him as he continues munching on food, dumbed down by the richness of flavor that merges in his mouth. “I’m sure this is nothing compared to the parties in L.A.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong. This is much smaller,” He stops, giving me a bright-eyed once-over. “But I prefer it this way.”

“Okay, okay, enough talking...” Something within me electrifies, even though I haven’t sipped alcohol.

I carefully arrange a variety of colorful snacks on a clean, empty plate, eager for him to sample them later.

Once the plate is filled, I gently cover it with another plastic plate turned upside down to keep the treats fresh.

With a satisfied glance at my handiwork, I set it aside, ready to turn my attention back to him. “What are the moves you know?”

“Veronica...” Nathan trails, tossing his head back as a groan spurts from his lips.

He stands up when I wedge a hand between his, the coldness of his fingers colliding against the warmth of my skin.

When we are face to face, he inspects me with the detailing of an artist, looking through the slits of my eyelashes and the glimmer of sweat on my skin. “I’m awful.”

“I don’t need you to be good, I need you to be there.

” Those words leave me without any weight on my chest, making us go through the groups of people to find a secluded corner to spend some time in.

Quietly, I find myself separated from the world, lost in thoughts that aren’t my own. “So, dance moves—”

“The robot and I did it when I was a child.”

I chuckle at his words, turning around when we reach a far-away section of the pub. I grasp the edges of his jacket and look up at him with a grin only he can inspire. He’s so different from what I am used to. Lorenzo would have already taken me by the hips and swung me to his will.

“Cuban music is danced with the hips. You have to feel free like you’re boneless or something.” I place my hands on his hips, moving them from side to side and cackling at the stern form of his movements. “Or we can do the robot with our hips if that’s what you’re comfortable with.”

Nathan hides his face on my shoulder, the coldness of his skin long lost to what I imagine is a blush that emanates from his cheekbones. God, I wish the lights weren’t dimmed blue so I could see the shades he creates. “You have to guide me here, Veronica.”

“I’m instructing you!”

“I am sure it’s not just moving hips.”