EMMA's POV :
- - - Six Months Later - - -
"...And now, without further ado, the winner of this year's contemporary artist of the year, Mr. Ian Hayes!" the emcee announced into the microphone and the whole room erupted in claps and cheers.
We were seated in the grand ballroom of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the largest art museum in the United States, and of the most famous art museums in the world. After hearing his name being called out, Ian was grinning from ear to ear as he planted a long tender kiss on my lips. I could feel the cameras flashing before us, and I wanted to pull away, but Ian kept my face there purposefully long. Once he was satisfied, he pulled away and kissed Florence on the top of her head. She was fast asleep, completely oblivious to all the craziness that was happening around her.
People were cheering and clapping as Ian stood and made his way to the stage. Walking up that stage, Ian looked drop-dead gorgeous in his three piece suit. I couldn't feel more proud and happy for him as I watched him shook the emcee's hand and received a shiny gold trophy in his hand.
"Thank you, thank you so much," Ian said to the microphone. He scanned the room and nodded at everyone who was clapping for him. Then his eyes found our table and he flashed us all a grin. Kristen, Hailey, baby Florence and I were sitting at the same table. Hailey was cheering at the top of her lungs and Kristen was wiping tears away from her face. She looked so darn proud of her son.
"I want to thank everyone here for your support. Thank you for appreciating my work. It's truly an honor," Ian said to the microphone as the cheers died down. Everyone was now listening to him speak. "First of all, I'd like to say thank you to my family. To my sister, Hailey, for always annoying the shit out of me, but also for being the sibling anyone could ever ask for. And to my mom, who's had to raise two angsty teenagers on her own. Thank you for your relentless support and love. You're one of the strongest persons I know. Ma, you taught me everything. So, thank you,"
Kristen broke out in tears and Hailey went to hug her. I put a hand on Kristen's shoulder and squeezed it gently. Kristen responded by taking my hand and squeezing it back.
Clearing his throat a little, Ian continued his speech, "Also, I'd like to thank my dad. Even though he's not with us anymore, I have a feeling that he never really left. This one's kinda hard for me to say, but since I've become a father recently, I now realize how deep a father's love can be. So, I believe that he's still around, still looking out for us from way up there. This one's for you too, dad,"
Ian raised the trophy to the air and everyone clapped supportively. I was clapping too. Ian always got emotional every time he talked about his dad. I knew this moment must mean a lot to him.
"Second, I'd like to thank my mentor and the person I look up to the most in this field, Mr. Sergio Rossi," Ian continued with his speech. The camera panned to Mr. Rossi who was sitting at another table with Teresa. Mr. Rossi smiled graciously at the camera, and then he turned towards me, smiling a knowing smile. "Sergio, thank you for taking me under your wings when I was in need of some inspiration, and thank you for that talk we had in your garden that one night. I will remember it always,"
Turning his eyes sharply right at me, Ian then said, "And last, but certainly not least... I would like to thank my girl, my muse that inspired all this into reality..."
Suddenly I felt hot and I blushed bright red as all the cameras were pointed at me. They were airing this award ceremony on TV, and there were also lots of reporters from newspapers and magazines covering the award show.
I tried my best to remain cool and calm, focusing my eyes on Ian as he continued his speech. "...As many of you know, I was given this award today because so many people believe that I make what you call 'great art'. But what does it take to make a great piece of art? This seemingly simple, yet deeply complex question has been debated throughout history. And, hey, who decides what is "good" art and what is "bad" art anyway?"
I found myself lost in thoughts as I listened to his speech. I knew he was talking about art, but for some reason, it felt like he was talking about us. About our story.
"Some consider the commitment of the artist as the key to good art, while others state good art sticks in your mind as a positive memory, others say it has to do with originality, some say the background story of a piece is the key. But for me, there is always a bit of art in everything. There is, you have just to discover how to see it. It is often hidden, fragmented, disorganized, and unassuming. The challenge is to find it, compose it, and order it,"
Ian flashed me a wink and a grin, as if to say that I was right. He was talking about our story, under the guise of art.
"If you ask me, I'd say that a good piece of art is a piece that connects with you. It needs to have some element of truth to it that resonates with the viewer and leaves them something after they've left the piece. A good piece asks questions and teaches you something you didn't know or shows you something you didn't know you knew. It articulates something we've felt, and we connect to that thing in a way where words aren't necessary. It's a feeling that's hard to describe but makes us feel less alone in a way - that someone else understands us and gives a voice to this thing inside us. A piece of art extends beyond its frame and becomes part of us,"
I couldn't stop the smile forming on my face as I listened to him. It was perhaps the single most beautiful thing anyone has ever said about me.
"So, this leads us back to the first question - what does it take to make a great piece of art? The simple answer is that it takes time. Sometimes it takes a shovel, and sometimes it takes being in the right place at the right time. And as for me, I found my art piece in the back of a bar in Atlanta about seven years ago,"
I was full-on laughing and crying at this point. I probably looked like a mess, but I didn't care. As crude as that may be, that was the truth. That was how we found each other. That was how our story started.
"Emma, I don't even know where to begin with you," Ian's voice was shaking a little, he paused for a moment to gain his composure and continued, "You are the reason why all of this even exists. Thank you for giving me my dreams. Thank you for giving me the world. Thank you for our beautiful baby girl, Florence. You are the divine influence that gives meaning into my life, and I don't how I could ever thank you for that,"
Smiling that beautiful smile, he mouthed without a sound, "I love you,"
And I replied, mouthing back, "I love you,"
The crowd went wild as Ian took a bow and strode off the stage with his trophy. Cameras were flashing and following Ian's every move. My smile only grew wider and wider as I saw him coming straight at me. Once he was standing an arm's length away, I lunged myself at him and he stretched his arms open at the same time. Wrapping me in his arms, he showered my forehead with kisses.
The emcee had taken the stage back and tried to get on with the show, but for some reason, a lot of the cameras were still on us. I could already picture it, by tomorrow, the media would run wild with this story of us. Our faces would be up in newspapers, magazines, and blogs spread all over the country. Everyone in America would know us, or know of us. Maybe some people back from high school would even recognize us.
Does that scare me?
Absolutely. But hey, nothing could stop us now. Ian and I were taking the world by storm. With our friends and family by our side, we knew we could make it through whatever the world may throw at us.
They say what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. So right now, Ian and I are finishing this story, strong and proud.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
IAN's POV :
"Congratulations again on your award, Mr. Hayes," Emma said as she linked her arms around my neck. "I'm so, so proud of you,"
We had just gotten back from the award show. It was an exhausting night. After dropping my mom and Hailey at their hotel, we went back home and put little Florence to sleep. It was definitely way past her bedtime. In between the three hour award show, she slept for a good two hours, before waking up hungry and tired at the end.
"I couldn't have done it without you," I said to her and kissed the side of her face. "And congratulations to you too for getting your writing published in the magazine,"
"It's our story. So, I couldn't have done it without you too," Emma smiled back, standing on her tippy toes to place a light kiss on my lips.
This week was a big week for us. Not only that I was receiving this award, but Emma had also gotten a promotion. Her boss saw her writing and she wanted her to publish the story in the magazine periodically. So, starting from tomorrow, readers of the magazine would be able to read the story of an art teacher who fell in love with his student. She wasn't using our real names or anything, but to those who knew, they knew.
"I'm so happy right now," she sighed softly into my chest. "I feel like we've got the world in our hands. We can do absolutely anything we want,"
"Anything for the next two hours maybe," I stifled a laugh. "You know she's gonna get up and start crying soon,"
After six months of having Florence in our home, I quickly learned that this was something I had to get used to when dealing with babies. Babies couldn't stay asleep for more than two to three hours. They'd always start crying because they're hungry, they want a diaper change, or they just wanna screw with you.
I love my baby to death, don't get me wrong. But at this rate, she might as well put me in an early grave... ha, kidding...
Smiling a naughty smile, Emma began to untie my tie and said, "Well, I can think of something we can do for the next two hours..."
Flashing her a smirk, I asked, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
She bit her bottom lip and nodded her head at me.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next thing I knew, I was stripped out of my three piece suit and only in my underwear. Emma also took off her heels and dress, wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of mine. We were cuddling in bed, I had a glass of wine in my hand, and she was stuffing her face with takeout food.
Yes, this is what we've become.
With Emma, I realized that pure happiness was simple. I didn't need a trophy or a three piece suit, with her in my arms, I could just be laying in bed and I'd feel like the king of the world.
We were talking about nonsense stuff, and she was laughing at something I said. She was laughing so hard that she was squirming around and her backside was grazing my lower area. She probably didn't do it on purpose, but it was causing my member to move inside my briefs.
Following my instinct, I pressed myself tighter against her body and started grinding on her. She let out a soft gasp as my hand trailed up her thigh, snaking its way to find her panties. Slipping a finger inside, I let out a muffled groan when I felt that she was already wet. She let out a moan when my finger traced around her opening, pushing inside just a little bit.
"After all these years, you still love to tease me, huh?" she said as she grinded back against me.
"And you're still as impatient as ever," I stifled a laugh.
"I guess some things don't change," she said, and without warning, she rolled over to her side and climbed on top of me, straddling me. A seductive smile played on her face as she leaned down and caught my lips with hers.
Propping myself up, I kissed her back and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as we kissed.
"Why are you smiling like that?" she asked in between the kiss.
"I just think it's funny,"
"What is?"
Pulling away slightly, I cupped her face with my hands and said, "I'm supposed to be your art teacher, but I think you're the one that ends up teaching me the true meaning of art,"
She looked at me quizzically, waiting for me to explain. I wished I could explain it better, but I didn't know how to put what I was feeling into words. I could probably spend my entire life saying the words 'I love you' to her and it still wouldn't be enough. So instead of saying it, I thought I'd just show it.
Smiling a wild smile, I crashed my lips onto hers and flipped our bodies around. She let out a sharp gasp as I kissed her again. I kissed and tasted every inch of her skin, from her lips to her neck to her chest, all the way down to her feet.
I hope this will show you just how much I love you. Every day for the rest of my life, I'll keep showing it to you. I promise I will.
- - - - - To Be Continued - - - - -