Hey! So i got this idea from a conversation that i had with a friend. cant tell you what it was but lets just say we were discussing Ib theory's. Dont worry. you'll find out leter on in the story. but not too soon. Anyhow, Enjoy! Reviews, favorites, follows are all appreciated!
Disclaimer: I dont own Ib
The two friends sat across the table from each other, discussing the happening of the gallery. As much as Garry and Ib both wanted to forget the event, the older man knew it had to be done.
It was the second time the two met up. The first time was mostly about catching up and getting to know each other better. Although hardly knowing the other, Ib was still very excited to see her new friend. Her parents weren't too optimistic about the meeting, so her mother accompanied her daughter the first time. She acted kindly towards him and seemed to trust him. Although her father wasn't on the same page since he was on the other side of the cafe watching them behind newspaper.
The waitress delivered several pastel colored macarons on a china plate. Ib delightfully plucked the treat from the plate. Her favorite had been raspberry, for it was the sweetest of the bunch. "These macaroons are so yummy!" She giggled.
Garry looked a little aggravated "actually, Ib, they're called macarons. Macaroons are a completely different pastry and don't even compare to the glorious sweetness that is a macaron". Ib laughed a little about how serious he was about the French pastry, although it was true. The tiny treats were crunchy on the outside with a soft chewy center that left a memorable taste of sweetness in her mouth (obviously I too, like Garry, am very serious about macarons and if your reading this, please remember if you're planning on writing an Ib fic to know the difference between macarons and macaroons and I highly suggest buying some if you want a realistic description!). Gary preferred espresso and green tea flavored macarons. The two of them both agreed that lavender flavored macarons were they're least favorite.
"So Ib..." Garry began the expected conversation about their past. Ib fidgeted and squirmed in her seat as he made the topic sound so uncomfortable. "About the gallery". He rested his elbows on the table as he began "I think we both agree to not tell anybody about that". Ib nodded in slight agreement, although she didn't know why she couldn't tell her parents. "You understand how crazy you might sound if you were to explain that to someone else." Once again Ib nodded. "Good. Now I'd like to try to discover why, out of all people, we were chosen to go there".
Ib's eyes widened in alarm "You're not going to go back to the gallery are you?"
Garry smirked at the young child's worry for his safety. "Heavens no. In fact I don't plan on ever going near that dreadful place." Ib's tense shoulders lowered as her mind was put at ease. She didn't want to admit it, but she still had bad dreams about the gallery. Garry might over react if she told him, and her parents would never understand. "But I did get a couple books about Guertena and his artwork." He paused "But I haven't read them yet. I'm planning to tonight". Ib frowned. She didn't want to have anything to do with the gallery anymore. As much as she wished to forget, the memories still haunted her. "I know you don't want me to do this but I believe it will put our worries to an end if we know what's causing this". Ib reluctantly shook her head in agreement. It would be nice to end the nightmares. "Although, I can't confirm this yet".
After the conversation, Garry asked questions such as 'how was school?' Or 'anything special going on?' When the plate if macarons was finished, Ib called her father who happened to be 'passing by' in the car when she called. The friends parted ways and Garry drove back to his apartment.
He sat in a desk and opened the book titled 'The art of Guertena'. In it, the book stated obvious facts such as, none of his paintings had been based off of real people and his last known painting had been of a young girl named Marry, who was thought to be either the child he always wanted but never had, or the innocents and darkness in the world. He read that she was destroyed in a tragic fire accident just before Guertena died. It was true. She had died in a fire but it was no accident. Guilt began to fill his mind as he remembered reading her diary saying she just wanted a friend to play with. It was because of him that she was to be alone for eternity.
The book said nothing about most of the art he found in the fabricated world although on the last page it did state that many paintings had been lost or destroyed before they could be recovered, and much more art of Guertena had still to be discovered.
He closed the book, thinking he was too tired to find any important information, and went to sleep. What he didn't know, was the answer was staring right in front of him.