Chapter Two: Dreamt of One Another

"Miss! I say loudly, attracting both hers and others attention around us. She instantly looked at me with wide, teary eyes. I can't help but look back, feeling confused and sorrowful. She sets the fabric down and takes interest in the table. I then pick up the handkerchief quickly and had it to her; she takes it without response and dabs the little tears that fell from her face which was distorted from it by now.

I suspect she had remembered by now. "This was mine. Nine years ago," A black streak had formed on the pastel by now. "It was for my ninth birthday, and I hadn't seen it since the gallery." She looked back up, her lip quivering. "Because I gave it to you, Garry."

My heart sinks as she spoke, her beauty overcoming fear. "So you do think about me, Ib."

She scoffs a well-oiled laugh playfully. "I dream about you!" She notes this as she takes in some of her frappuccino before swallowing. "Just last night actually, I dreamt of a warm blue coat, welcoming when I awoke in that horrid place. Mary tried her best to kill us, actually being one of Guertana's many works... It's rather startling to think about it, but I always do. I can't help but remember. When I close my eyes I see purple eyes, and a pallet knife in Mary's hand..." She pauses. "Sometimes their nightmares as well... The pallet knife in your hand instead, attempting to murder me. I always think about you, I just never thought of it when I saw you physically." She sighs, as if remembering hit a nerve.

I grin gently and she smiles, looking back down towards the table. I took the chance to notice her perfections and imperfections before I set a gentle hand on her exposed forearm. "Hey, now why do such beautiful women, destroy their faces with such ugly tears?" I asked before caressing them off. She jumps as my thumb does this and just continues to look down

"Thanks."

"You know, I still think about it too. Mostly about you though," I remove my stained hand from her face while she sniffles. "I was just scared to even say anything to you today because of it."

She nods as we finish out meals, engaging in very little conversation. I told her about my job-which was rather nothing, - She told me how she was planning on leaving to college in a couple of month. I just smiled. I loved the sound of her voice; it was so mesmerizing.

We both finished our macaroons and drinks by the next hour; a whole one being filled with conversation quickly before I arose. She then frowned, creating worry lines on her pale forehead. "What are you doing?"

I let out a hand. "Don't you mean, what are we doing?" I offered a toothed smile as she grabbed my hand quite hesitant. Her free hand swooped up her book, mine picking up both of our mess.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

I know we kind of, just re-met and all. But I want to re-know you... Where we first met." I mumbled, smiling as I through the trash away, opening the door in the process. I was gentleman enough to let her go out first. She nodded thanks as I walked out behind her. "And I'll try not to keep you past curfew."

"Eleven PM." She remarked for my reminder. I smirked, surprised she wasn't freaked out with the thought of going back to the place that started it all. The gallery shall be the place we reconvene. I knew it was a bad place to go, it brought horrible memories to both of us! We just have to be careful with the people and pictures we look at.

If only I remembered which artwork it was... For God's sake, hopefully she does.