Rohit & Mina
Morning of the 28th at the Art Gallery
Mina glanced at the ivory card between her fingers, watching the gold filigree catch the light. She smirked as Milo vanished into the crowd.
Milo St. Claire, she mused to herself.
Try not to let expectation smother youâitâd be a shame to lose a masterpiece like you.Her gaze slid to Rohit, lingering on the golden case in his hands. For a moment, she hesitated.
Stay clear-headed, stay in control. But⌠for whose benefit? Certainly not hers. She was tired of putting others needs first, taking care of others and enjoying her life.
Fuck it.Twirling the ivory card between her fingers, she glanced at Rohit, her grin turning wicked.
âI was going to behave, butââ she tapped the card against his chest, voice dipping into something teasing, reckless,
âI think itâs time I make my own rules.âPlucking a joint with deliberate ease, she held his gaze.
âIâm afraid youâre going to have to introduce me to this as this is new for me. And while weâre at itâŚâ She flashed the card once more.
âI say we find out exactly what sort of selective delights dear Milo thought us worthy of.âRohit turned the ivory and gold card over in his hand.
Classy. He thought before tucking it into a pocket. He looked at Mina as she accepted his offer and tapped his chest with her own VIP card. He matched her wicked grin.
âBehave? Whereâs the spontaneity in that?â He agreed.
âI could never pass up selective delights.â Rohit plucked a joint from his case and returned the rest to his pocket, grabbing a book of matches in the process. He looked around for a moment and then gestured to the Ivory Longue.
âItâd be terribly rude to obscure Miloâs lovely work in clouds of smoke.â He added, twirling the joint between his fingers and beckoning her to follow. Once they were a respectable distance away from Miloâs art, he stuck a match.
âYou light it, evenly, or itâll canoe on you.â He explained as he lit his joint, rolling the tip in the flame. Then he placed it between his lips, embers growing bright and hot on the inhale.
âThen you just inhale and hold it, maybe not too long for a first timer.â He spoke without exhaling, wisps of smoke leaking out as he talked. He passed her the book of matches and, just to show off, rounded his lips and blew a ring of smoke above them.
âThen, youâre mind will start to float, your skin will buzz, and everything about the world will feel more delightful than it did before. It is truly a magical plant with a little spark of chaos in it.â He said with a grin.
Mina turned the matchbook over in her hand, rolling it between her fingers as if it were some rare artifact demanding study. Her gaze flicked to Rohit, catching the way his lips curled around his joint, the lazy ease of his inhale, the effortless swirl of smoke that followed.
Of course he made it look good.The flame flickered as she struck the match, reflecting in her ocean eyes as she brought it to the tip, mimicking Rohitâs slow, even roll through the fire. The embers flared to life, and she pulled in her first inhaleâonly to choke almost immediately.
She turned away, coughing into her wrist, eyes watering as she forced a breath.
âDear gods,â she rasped, shaking her head as she regained her composure.
âThatâs awful.â Yet despite the burn in her throat, a laugh bubbled up, unrestrained and genuine.
Looking at Rohit, she smirked through the lingering sting.
âYou enjoy this?â She took a smaller, more cautious drag, determined not to let it beat her. The smoke curled in her lungs, strange but not entirely unpleasant now that she was expecting the sensation. The warmth spread through her, curling in her limbs, coaxing the tension from her muscles. She exhaled, this time without a fit of coughing, and tilted her head toward Rohit.
"A spark of chaos, huh?" she mused, watching the smoke coil into the air. A slow grin curved her lips.
"I think I could get used to that."âI do enjoy this.â Rohit said. The light feeling, the scent that lingered, the earthy and peppery flavors of the smoke; he loved the whole experience.
âThe smoke goes in, wraps itself around every worry, and carries it away from me. To the heavens, like a prayer that needs no answer.â He replied and soon another smoky exhale rose and dissipated. Only a slight haze lingered around them.
âBut even if you donât acquire a taste for this; today youâve tried something entirely new. Added a spark of chaos, a breath of spontaneity, and soon, selective delights. What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.â He added with an easy confidence. It was a good start to his day too; there were now two less faces wandering Sorian that felt like strangers.
âSo whatâs next, Mina? Indulge in our fabulous reflections or skip straight to the delights?â He asked as the embers at the joint burned just a puff or too away from his fingertips.
Mina let Rohit's words linger in the haze between them, watching the smoke swirl and dissipate as if carrying her own restlessness away. The warmth creeping through her veins was subtle, like sinking into silk sheets after too long on her feet.
She took another drag, this one smoother, and held it in her lungs for a beat before exhaling. The world felt⌠softer. The chatter of the crowd dulled, colors seemed to bleed a little more vibrantly, and the tension that usually coiled beneath her skin loosened, leaving her feeling almost⌠weightless.
And then she noticed it.
The noiseâthe constant murmur of voices just beyond the veil, the whispering and wailing of spirits that had trailed her for as long as she could rememberâwas gone.
Her breath hitched.
For the first time in what felt like forever, silence wrapped around her like a comforting shroud. Her pulse quickened as she glanced around, searching for the familiar flickers of the dead that lurked at the edges of her vision. But there was nothing. No ghostly figures lingering in the shadows, no distant pleas clawing at her mind.
Just the living.
A pang of relief struck her chest so suddenly she nearly laughed from the sheer lightness of it. The breakâthe silenceâwas an indulgence in itself, one she hadnât known she craved until this moment.
Her gaze flicked to Rohit, amusement dancing in her eyes.
âA prayer that needs no answer,â she echoed with a soft laugh, this time savoring the quiet it left behind.
âI think I understand that now.âThe smirk that followed was lazy, almost wicked.
âLetâs not waste this mood on reflection. I say we find those delights Milo was so eager to tempt us with.âShe stepped closer, brushing her shoulder against his as she leaned in, playful mischief glinting in her gaze.
âLead the way, Rohit. Letâs see what chaos tastes like when it's laced with indulgence.âWithout hesitation or reservation, Rohit led the way towards temptation. Tucked away just out of view from the general public, the VIP area was a realm of indulgence and freedom. A flash of the cards Milo had given them got them past the velvet ropes and entrance into an area of living, breathing art. Guests in varying states of undress moved about, beautiful and uninhibited, each a work of art in their own way. A pair of nude models lay perfectly still on a set of tables with hors d'oeuvres artfully placed upon their skin.
Soft music and excited voices filled the air. The topic of conversation strayed far from gossip, instead, everyone was abuzz with their thoughts on art, lost in deep reflection of what Miloâs work meant to them. They spoke without masks, without clothing, without barriers. Here conversations quickly turned comfortably intimate as people bared their souls without a second thought. Milo St. Claire was truly a genius like no other.
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