Page 61 of Fractured Faceoff

I followed him in, trying not to let the warmth of his place or the smell of fresh coffee sway me too much.

“So,” he started as he poured two mugs, “what do you think about checking out that new art exhibit downtown todaybefore the barbeque?”

“Art?” I raised an eyebrow. “Since when are you into art?”

“Since you’ve been yapping nonstop about all those sports psychology books you're reading,” he quipped back.

I took the mug he offered and sipped carefully. “Touché.”

We decided to check out the art museum downtown, the Detroit Institute of Arts. It was one of those places I always meant to visit but never found the time for and Brody had never been interested. As we approached, the grandeur of the building took my breath away. Its towering columns and intricate stonework hinted at the treasures within.

Jared held the door open for me, and I stepped into a world of quiet elegance. The entrance hall was expansive, with high ceilings and marble floors that seemed to stretch on forever. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting warm, golden light on everything it touched.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” Jared's voice broke the silence.

“Yeah,” I admitted, taking it all in. “I didn’t expect it to be this... grand.”

He chuckled. “See? I can surprise you.”

We wandered through the galleries, each room revealing new wonders. There were Renaissance paintings with their vivid colors and dramatic scenes, contemporary art pieces that made you think twice, and ancient artifacts that transported you to another time.

I found myself drawn to a particular painting—an abstract piece full of bold strokes and vibrant hues. It was chaotic yet strangely calming.

“Why this one?” Jared asked, stepping up beside me.

“It’s... messy,” I replied after a moment's thought. “But there’s something beautiful about it too.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Kind of like life, huh?”

I glanced at him, surprised by his insight. “Yeah, I guess so.”

We moved on to other exhibits—sculptures that seemed almost alive in their detail, photographs that captured fleeting moments in time. We didn’t rush; instead, we let ourselves get lost in the art and each other’s company.

In one gallery, we found a bench and sat down for a while, surrounded by portraits from different eras. Jared leaned back, his arm resting casually along the back of the bench.

“Didn’t expect this to be so... relaxing,” he admitted.

“Me neither.” I sighed contentedly. “It’s nice just being here without any pressure.”

He turned to look at me, his eyes softening. “You know you deserve this kind of peace more often.”

I felt a lump form in my throat but managed a small smile. “Thanks, Jared.”

We stayed there for a bit longer before continuing our exploration of the museum. Every corner we turned revealed something new and unexpected—a reminder that sometimes stepping out of our comfort zones could lead to beautiful discoveries.

As we meandered through the last exhibit, Jared’s eyes darted to the gift shop. He nudged me playfully. “You know, no museum visit is complete without a trip to the gift shop.”

I rolled my eyes but followed him inside. The shop was a cozy maze of shelves stocked with everything from postcards to books to small trinkets. Jared immediatelymade a beeline for the back corner where a collection of delicate glass ornaments caught his eye.

He picked up a small, intricate piece—a glass figurine of a serene swan. It shimmered under the soft lighting, its wings poised as if ready to take flight.

“This,” he declared, holding it up for me to see.

“Why a swan?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Swan symbolizes grace and beauty even through turmoil. Thought you might like it.”

I took the figurine from his hand, feeling its smooth surface under my fingers. It was beautiful, delicate yet strong.

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