A World Away (A New Adult Romance Novel) (10 page)

I did know where I was going short term with Philippe anyway: the Louvre.
I loved this museum. I was ashamed to realize that hadn’t been back in a while, not since I visited a few times on those first couple of weeks I had in France before classes ha started. I was so busy with schoolwork and my new social life that I found I didn’t have the time to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon in the Greek section, admiring the statues and their perfection of the human body. It was a terrible excuse and I knew it, and as I waited for Philippe outside my classroom the next day, I was incredibly excited. Both to see the art that I’d fallen in love with and to see the man that made every inch of my body flutter.

As
I saw him coming towards me down the hallway, instantly my heart beat faster. He wore semi-fitted jeans, which both showed off the muscles of his legs but still looked casual. His black pea coat was fitted perfectly, and it was evident that below the coat lay a body of perfect proportions. His black hair and eyes matched his coat perfectly, and as he came up to me, smiling (oh God, the tingles that ran through me when I saw those dimples!), I felt like I was going to faint.

“Hello, Sophie. It is good to see you again
,” Philippe greeted me, leaning in and kissing me softly on the cheek. My face instantly turned red, the same shade as my lips which his had just touched. Oh God, I’d only been with him for a few minutes and he’d already touched me! My hormones were driving me crazy. I had to get control of myself, or we wouldn’t even make it to the Metro before I’d dragged him into an empty room and ripped his clothes off. Just the thought of it sent pangs of pleasure radiating through my body from my sex. “Shall we go?” he offered, extending his arm, and I slipped my own through his.

There were layers of fabric separating us,
but I still felt a small spark as I slipped my arm through Philippe’s and he led me down the hallway and outside.

Rather than waiting at the main entrance, Philippe led me through some underground shopping mall of some kind where there was another entrance, with an absolutely tiny line. Rather than waiting an hour to get into the museum we were through security in five minutes, and we had our tickets in ten.
That was the advantage of local knowledge, I supposed.

“Where did you want to start?” Philippe asked, motioning to the various entrances. This museum was so big that there were three completely different entrances, taking one to various parts of the museum.

“The Greek statues,” I replied without hesitation. They were my favorite part of the museum by far. Philippe struck a pose.

“There you go. Human perfection
,” he grinned as he flexed his muscles under his jacket.

“No, no, it’s all wrong,” I teased. “You’re still wearing clothes!”

“Well, I can correct that pretty easily,” Philippe teased, his voice getting even lower, and I bit my lower lip as I smiled. I was actually flirting!

“If you try it here we’ll get arrested, we need to find somewhere more private for that!”

I tugged at Phillipe’s arms until, laughing, he finally dropped back into a normal pose. Then, I dragged him towards the entrance.

“I love the Greek section, classical Greek statues are my favorite pieces of art
,” I told him.

“A woman nearly after my own heart,” Philippe replied. “My personal favorite part of this museum is the collection of ancient Egyptian artifacts. In another life, perhaps I would have become an archaeologist. Unfortunately, my love of keeping people alive was greater than my love for rediscovering the already dead.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “What is it that you study?”

“Medicine.
I’m studying to become a doctor, or more specifically, a neurologist. The way the human brain functions absolutely fascinates me and has since I was a child.”

I knew Philippe was a graduate student, but I had no idea that he was studying to become a doctor.

“That’s incredible!” I replied. “I don’t know about France, but in America you have to be ridiculously intelligent to be able to get into a medical program.”

Philippe laughed.

“Unfortunately the way you phrased that makes it impossible for me to be modest, since if I told you any old idiot can get into medical school in France I’d be lying. But, I worked really hard as well, and it’s not like I’m Einstein or anything. What about you? What is it that you’re studying here in France?”

“Marketing.”
I used to be so proud of telling people that I was a business student, but somehow next to this promising young doctor it seemed stupid.

“You and my sister would get along then, she also studied marketing at university.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, you’re a lot like her in many ways. You remind me a lot of
Stephanie.”

Just then, we arrived at the entrance to the classical Greek statues. The classical era was hands-down my favorite of all of the Greek time periods when it came to art. In the classical era, the Greeks moved towards a much more lifelike form, displaying the complete perfection of the human body through their art. Many of the statues were of mythological figures, mainly the gods we have all heard of such as Athena, but it also mark
ed the start of when they began to sculpt real people. The technical skill involved in the sculptures was absolutely amazing. It took my breath away every time I looked at them, and I knew that in many cases the statues would have been painted back in ancient Greece, and decorated with jewelry to make them look even more lifelike than they already were.

We stood in front of the giant statue of Athena th
at marked the entrance to this section. Philippe and I stared at it, both of us lost in thought as we appreciated the beauty and history that this statue invoked. Finally, Philippe broke the silence.

“With this statue of this size, can you imagine the absolute power that it must have had over people who came up to it back then, all adorned in jewelry, painted to be so lifelike with her shield held in front of her? It must have been so awe-inspiring.”

I gazed up at Philippe. He hadn’t been lying about knowing about art, since I’d just had the same thought. As he moved through the museum exhibits, we shared our passion. I knew more about this particular topic than he did, and I explained to him facts about the time. That he wasn’t aware of, such as the fact that the classical period was the first in which sculptors were appreciated for their work, and given credit for it rather than the works of earlier where it’s rarely, if ever known who sculpted them.

When we reached the Venus
de Milo, at the end of the hallway filled with the most beautiful classical Greek statues, she took my breath away like she did every time I set eyes upon her. Even here in the museum, with dozens of other people crowded around, taking pictures, pointing, I felt like Philippe and I were the only people in the room. I found myself grabbing his hand, taking it in mine almost automatically, feeling the now familiar ripples of pleasure running through me as our skin touched. Venus was so beautiful, I always looked upon her as almost the perfect statue to represent the classical Greek era.

“Do you know where her arms were supposed to be?” Philippe asked, and I nodded.

“Yes, her right arm was supposed to go across her body, with her right hand holding up the fabric on her knee. Her left arm was holding an apple at about eye level. Do you see how the right side is more carefully finished?”

“I do, yes.”

“Venus was supposed to be seen from the right, it implies that her left and backside would have probably been against a wall, that’s why the artist focused more on the side that would have been seen.”

“So what you’re saying is the artist didn’t want to put
a whole ton of effort into the whole statue.”

“That’s not what I’m saying it al
l!” I replied, feigning outrage, and I lightly punched Philippe in the arm, punishing him for being so glib about what I considered to be perfection in this form of art.

“You’ve taken me thro
ugh these statues, Sophie, telling me with all of them about how they’re the perfect human form, but none of them are as beautiful as the human form standing next to me right now.”

I couldn’t even look Philippe in the eye after he told me that, I was so embarrassed. I wasn’t used to outright
flirting like this, but I couldn’t help but smile as I felt the flush crawl up my face. Philippe made me feel so special already, and we were barely half an hour into our first date. If that’s what this was. After all, I didn’t know if this was a
real
date.

After we finished with the classical Greek works, we had to decide where to go next.

“You’ve taught me everything there is to know about Greek statues, now why don’t we head down a level so I can give you an all new appreciation of the ancient Egyptian artifacts here?”

“I’d like that,” I replied, and we headed downstairs to Philippe’s favorite part of the museum.

Philippe was right, he definitely knew a lot about the ancient Egyptian art and in the life of ancient Egyptians in general, knowledge which he put forth on to me as we passed through multitudes of rooms, each with more impressive artifacts than the last. The symbolism in Egyptian art, as I learned, was just so important, in a way that I doubt has been seen since the fall of the pharaohs. It surpassed the symbolism even used in Renaissance art, and had a strong focus on life after death. Although, as Philippe and I discussed, it is true that virtually every culture’s art puts an enormous emphasis on the afterlife. While modern art in our society has moved away from that, one only needs to look at the Renaissance, where nearly every artist painted multiple scenes from the bible.

“Did you notice how s
unken the relief is in the sculptures?” Philippe asked as we passed through a room filled with enormous sculptures, some of them reaching up to the ceiling. I nodded.

“It’s very well suited to harsh sunlight, such as one would find in Egypt, especially with a number of their statues being found outside of buildings.”

“Oh, I never would’ve thought of that.”

“Believe me Sophie, there are a lot of things I can teach you, and not all of them about art
,” Philippe whispered into my ear, and tingles ran down my spine towards my nether regions. Oh my God, why did I react like this to this guy? We continued through the hall, but my mind was absolutely not on the antiquities at this point. All I could think about was dragging Philippe into the nearest bathroom and ripping his clothes off, which only made me feel hotter. My sex muscles clenched as I fantasized about Philippe right here in the middle of the most famous museum in the world.

We moved on and decided to tackle the Renaissance section of the museum before leaving for the night. As every Parisian knows, it’s virtually impossible to visit the Louvre in one day, so as we decided that the Renaissance would be our last stop, Philippe took the opportunity to ask me for a second date.

“Should we come back next week, discovering the rest of the art world which we both love so much?”

I smiled. “I think we should
,” I replied. The last time I’d been to the Louvre, I was alone. Visiting the museum by myself was nice in a way, as it gave me the opportunity to really absorb the art and really feel what the artist was trying to say, but at the same time I preferred this visit with Philippe. He knew so much about art that I didn’t know anything about, and I knew a lot about art that he didn’t know either. Between the two of us, we learned a lot when we visited with each other, and we were able to have deep meaningful discussions about the artist’s intentions when it came to various works. Philippe was more than just a hot guy that made my body react in ways I wasn’t used to. He had a brain, he was different. Hell, a part of me was starting to wish he lived in San Francisco, since maybe then I’d be able to consider dating him for real.

“Shall we have a contest as to who can guess how many Madonna and child paintings there are in the Renaissance section?” Philippe joke
d as we entered the area. I laughed. The Renaissance was well known for a number of things, but the main theme of the time was religious, and nearly all of the painters of the time had painted at least one Madonna and child. Many, including Da Vinci, had painted quite a few works of the Virgin Mary with her infant son.

We passed slowly through with the throng of people all looking at these gorgeous works.

“I can’t believe all of this art, all of this history is all here in one building.” It was still unbelievable to me, the works in this museum alone had to be worth at least billions of dollars.

“I know. The first time I visited here, when I was a small child, I thought it was way too long. My parents spent too long looking at everything, and we were here for hours when all I wanted to do was run up and down the hallways. As I got older I learned to appreciate the art, and I guess that was what got me interested in it in the first place. When I was a teenager my parents would let me go wherever I wanted, and they would meet me at the entrance later, and that was when I discovered the Egyptian section. I guess that’s what got me into that, and I began to read about it on my own when we went home.”

“That’s at least a bit similar to me. I took an art history class which introduced me to all of the art, and I took an instant liking to it. One of my electives last year was an art history class, but unfortunately when you’re majoring in marketing you don’t get a lot of opportunity to explore the other faculties.”