I heard the door creaked behind me and saw Luke popping his head inside, his face full of concern written. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked into the garden holding a slight smile.

"What are you doing here?" His lips held a sly smile but his eyes showed otherwise.

Without answering his question, I asked him truthfully. "Is everything okay?" Some part of me said it could be related to Justin, another part of me said it could be related to Jason. It was the same person, but two different personalities, and I don't know which one scares me more.

He chuckled, it was a nervous one but he didn't show it off. "Nothing's wrong, I was just hoping we could get some air outside and get to know each other more?" It sounded more like a question than a statement.

He cocked his head to the side and waited for my answer. I was still unconvinced by his weird actions, but pushed it all aside and decided to go with the flow. I nodded slightly, wearing the smile that was full of mixed feelings.

"Great, let's go." He sounded relieved when I didn't push him further. Following him back inside the house, I made another mental note saying I should be careful with Luke, especially.

—

"This is where you wanted get some air?" I laughed at his choice of places, but still enjoyed the view. These art seemed like just normal paintings, but costs millions and billions of dollars. Luke nudged my shoulder playfully staring at those paintings. In that room, it was just two of us.

Why? Because it had already closed at six in the evening. What time was it now? It was seven. How did we enter? Because Luke made some great friends with the guards who works at night at the museum. What museum was it? Musée d'Orsay.

That moment, staring at those paintings of Van Gogh, although it wasn't the air that I thought I'd get from the beach, the stress that I had been having lately faded out immediately when I entered the museum. It was so calming and beau—

"N'est-elle pas belle?" Luke didn't look at me when he said that. He was mesmerized by the beauty of those paintings of Van Gogh. What was more mesmerizing was that I couldn't understand a single thing he said but still nodded my head, a genuine smile plastered on my pale face.

He chuckled, hanging his head low and looked at me by the side. "You didn't understand what I said, right?" Luke's cheeky smile always get to me from the moment I met him in the morning earlier today.

Was it wrong for me to judge him too quickly? Was it a mistake to make his whole family as my own suspect? Maybe, I was having trust issues ever since I got to know my father was killed by my first love. Luke held a concerned look, his left hand holding my back, rubbing it up and down.

"What's wrong, Hazel?" Everything felt wrong. Everything didn't seem to be right. My life was so messed up. And after those dreadful thoughts, I didn't think I would be doing something in front of any strangers; although, I had built up strong walls around me when I got to know the truth. Those walls started to shake, and that was when I couldn't keep it to myself anymore.

I cried into my both hands, not wanting to look at Luke. After a few seconds, I heard him telling me a few things like "It's okay" and "Everything was going to be alright" while constantly rubbing my back upwards and downwards.

But I know that it was not going to be okay or alright.

—

Who lives in France 🇫🇷?

Thank you reading, 🌹

4th of March, 2017.