Chapter Text
Somber eyes. Tan skin, thick eyebrows, and guarded posture. His full lips seem to maintain a permanent smile, but the action never reaches his gaze. The gods chiseled his body tall and muscular and his hair long and dark. As a deity among men, he possesses not a single ordinary feature.
Unlike you, a girl of average birth with an average life.
You take another swing of your drink while listening to the endless chatter of your friends, whose choice in topic contrasts the classy ambiance of the gallery.
Art has never been your forte, having excelled in the practice of math and graphs. Your parents would be proud of your efforts in acquiring the highest degree in Economics, but much to the misfortunes of life, they were robbed of witnessing your accomplishments when you were only four years old.
The story is a tale as old as time. You were given to an aunt who did not care to raise you when she already had a child of her own. She was far more preoccupied with your cousin, granting you an exorbitant amount of freedom. Amidst the lack of parental guidance, you encountered many trials, endless tribulations, and perpetual conflict that shaped how you perceived the world and yourself. Though you still have much to learn at only twenty-four years old.
But what you definitely know is that you don't do art.
"Did you see him?" Your friend Trey asks. Her voice always lands dull and unimpressed, just like her expression.
Your eyes peel away from the man you were ogling and land onto Trey, who wears a sliver of interest. "Are you talking about the guy who just walked in with his friend?"
"Yeah, Chibi won't stop yapping about him."
"Is that what she's going on about?"
"They won't stop egging her on to flirt with him. By now, I'm sure the entire gallery knows about her infatuation."
You laugh, "How many crushes has she had so far this month?"
Her frown only deepens at your amusement. She turns to you, huffing out her annoyance. "See, you all laugh at her boy-crazy antics so she doesn't understand how creepy she's being."
"I think it's been around four crushes this month, and only two went on dates with her."
"Seriously?" Trey shakes her head and grabs two more flutes of champagne from a waiter passing by. "You're just gonna ignore what I said and continue finding the fun in this?"
"Yes, I believe I will." She hands you a flute, and you place your empty one onto the table. "Thank you."
The conversation halts upon the girl's heightening volume. Enough alcohol has been consumed that her voice has now gone trill. You feel as if the paintings and sculptures tremble from her words. Some guests begin to stare at her as she expels her fantasies regarding the handsome man, and your friends just fan the flames by asking more questions that flesh out her rampant imagination. She carries not an ounce of shame in her petite frame, that much you learned when she joined your group during your undergrad years.
"I think he even checked me out a few times," Chibi giggles with an arrogance that elicits a groan from the group. "I can tell that he wants to take me out on a date."
Both you and Trey are one table over, away from their conversation but close enough to listen. Trey scoffs, "She's always full of herself."
"Come in, it's kinda funny," you say while downing the flute. It's nearing ten at night, and you are angsty to ditch this place for the afterparty, having had enough in pretending to be interested in art.
"You know what would actually be funny?"
There's a twinkle in Trey's eyes that brings a curiosity to you. "Tell me."
"If you made the first move."
"Me?" When she nods, your mind plays out the scenario of her intentions. "That's...asking for trouble. She may be annoying at times, but Chibi is still a friend of ours."
"But she can't claim every hot guy. If we followed that notion, then we'd never have a guy." Trey gasps, "Scratch that, the rest of you would never. I'd be just fine."
"Heeeeh, is that a challenge?"
She smirks, "Sure is."
You scan the gallery in search of the mysterious man. When you catch him near a painting close by, your body freezes with hesitation while your mind tries to convince yourself into the ploy. Since the moment he walked in, you had already decided him out of your league, but the alcohol's burn in your system deletes the conclusion.
"Picking up a handsome man in a friend's art show." The statement earns you a rare laugh from Trey. "Wish me luck!"
"Good luck. Bag the man so we can finally shut up Chibi!"
Her exclamation followed by your saunter catches the attention of your friend group. It consists of three boys and five girls with the occasional friend-of-a-friend. Hiruka, the friend who organizes all the nights and tries to mother the group, is not here to stop the ruffling of feathers as she is far too busy explaining the ideas behind her sculptures to her guests.
Uninhibited from reason and Hiruka, you make your way to the man. All eyes are on you, but you shake off the curious stares.
"Excuse me?"
The man faces away from the painting and provides you his undivided attention. He's even more handsome up close, and you praise yourself for remembering deodorant this time. Though, you feel as if the strapless and tight mini-dress pales in comparison to his well-pressed suit that was probably imported from another country.
"Yes?"
Your mind blanks. How do you even speak to a man this handsome?! Your past exes cannot compete with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Why did you let your friend talk you into this? Sure, you enjoy causing some mischief here and there, but picking him up seems far beyond your scope of talent.
In an instant, your mind sobers to reality. "I... was wondering if you were enjoying the art here."
He takes another peek at the piece beside him. "I am, actually."
You extend your hand, offering it to him as a greeting. Internally, you screech at yourself for the action. This is not how you greet someone you are trying to pick up, but rather how you introduce yourself to an esteemed colleague in the field.
To your relief, he plays along and shakes your hand.
You pivot off his willingness to placate you and begin your introduction. "I'm [Full Name], and my friend made the pieces here tonight. She's worked very hard to be featured in this gallery. So I am acting as her attendant that greets and talks with the guests. I can even walk them through the pieces."
He lets out a sound that signals his understanding. "Ahhh, I see! I'm Hashirama. Your friend surely has talent. It's not easy having a prestigious art gallery host her pieces."
"I'm glad you think so! Do you have any questions about any of them?"
Hashirama returns to the painting. "I actually do. This one caught my eye as soon as I saw it. The flow of colors clashes quite beautifully, and she uses a lot of freeform in her lines."
Have you ever told anyone that you do not do art? You just want this to be known as you explicitly are not an artist in any way, shape, or form. Any word that leaves your mouth will be a caricature of the true meaning behind the piece, but you must try for the sake of your farce.
Your eyes take stock of the artwork before you. Hiruka did explain all of her pieces an endless amount of times to the awaiting ears of no one. Thankfully, you do enjoy listening to others and remember most of her explanations.
"This... is called A Choice."
"I gathered." He motions with his chin at the title card. Again, you scream in your head. He spots your harrowed expression and bursts out in laughter. "Hahaha sorry, I didn't mean to tease you like that!"
"I-It's fine," you sigh. "I think I drank too much and cannot gather my thoughts."
"Oh? But you said you were trying to welcome the guests and be some sort of attendant for your friend."
"Yes?"
"But you drank during your employment?"
Your face drowns in embarrassment. "Haaa, well the truth of the matter is that I wanted to hit on you, but I am very poor at the art of picking up random men."
His laugh returns, this time more boisterous than ever. You watch, still cringing over your actions, but begin to notice the boyish charm of his laugh. Endearing as it is, you remind yourself that he is laughing at you, not with you.
Nothing can stop the torrent of shame, and you gaze at the painting one last time. "A Choice!" His laughter softens as you speak, "There is no wrong or right. It's the action of shepherding one's path as choices create a series of consequences. A choice is how one expresses themselves, how they communicate their hearts, and what makes it powerful is that we always have a choice."
Hashirama has already ended his jubilee under the spell of your eloquence. Your commentary has brought him much to think about, and for some reason it speaks to him on a personal level.
"Maybe that's why I am drawn to it."
His sudden change of tone calls for your curiosity. "Why is that?"
"Because... I feel as though I never get to decide." The way his gaze lingers on you warms your body. You feel conscious. You feel judged. You feel like a woman.
"Now," your voice comes out sultry, enticing him closer to listen, "if it were up to you, what would you choose, Hashirama?"
He ponders on this as his expression heats with desire. Though you speak upon trivial matters, those words target the depth of his psyche. His contemplation stretches for a long, quiet moment until he sees your confidence dwindling due to his silence.
"...I'd like a night out with a beautiful woman I just met."
You blanch at his candid statement that harbors a compliment. Is this a win for you, or is he teasing you once more? Probably best to check.
You clear your throat before answering, "Well, we're hosting an afterparty in an hour. Would you like to join me?"
He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. "Shall we meet at this painting at eleven?"
You glance at your watch and coyly respond, "I thought that maybe I could guide you around the gallery until it's time to go."
The idea arouses his interest, and he smiles, providing his elbow as an offer to escort you. "I would like nothing more."
You link arms, and he whisks you off to another part of the room, away from the amazed stares of your friends. No one bothers the little bubble that surrounds you two. Conversation flows freely as time passes quickly; neither of you unhook from one another until it is time to travel to the next venue.
At the nightclub, you spend most of your time in his arms. Dancing, drinking, and kissing. Trey diligently keeps your friends away from your impromptu date, but her motives are obvious, finding such joy in popping Chibi's man-hungry dreams. You don't notice the stink she kicks up, not when you and your date are busy tonguing each other by the bathrooms.
Despite the unending desire for each other, you don't understand why this man gravitates towards you. He can have any woman he wants with his handsome looks. You know that you too can cause heads to turn but not to his extent.
But he kisses you in a way that is starved for something. It isn't love nor lust. It's a freedom that only you can provide to him.
Although you would definitely enjoy a night at his place, you follow the notion of 'stranger danger' and allow him to walk you to the bus stop. He enters his number into your phone and grants you a final kiss goodbye.
Your legs are like goo, but Trey holds you up. Her knowing eyes are gleeful at your success, but she will speak upon it later when the both of you are home and rested.