Flustered

He looked like chiseled marble under ember lights.

Her colouring pastel snapped into half for the

third time since their session started, further

dirtying her hands with pulverised cerulean.

Her art professor gave her a warning look. She

mouthed an apology before picking-up a canary

        — her study was looking more and more like

             a deconstructed flag with the variety of

             colours it already had.

He moved, their eyes met for a millisecond

before he returned to his position.

"Get out!"