The Art Department was lively, filled with students still buzzing with excitement over the announcement from the assembly.
Persha had not really spent much time in the Art Department before.
Only twice, actually.
Once when he came with Baylee to drop something off, and another time alone to pass information to one of his teammates.
He stopped a passing student.
“Hi,” he greeted politely.
The girl smiled back.
Her outfit was extravagant and artistic, probably a fashion enthusiast.
“Where can I find the Sculpting Sector?” he asked.
“Take the elevator to the fifth floor.
The large door at the end of the hallway,” she replied.
“Thank you.”
He started walking away before she stopped him again.
“Oh, that floor isn’t really open to the department.
Do you have a pass?”
Persha thought about it for a second.
Elena’s name alone should count as a pass.
“Yes, I do,” he answered confidently.
“I have a pass.”
“Okay then.”
She walked away while he headed toward the elevator, stepping inside and pressing the button for the fifth floor.
As the elevator rose, he hummed quietly to himself.
Ding.
The doors opened.
Just like the girl had said, the floor looked almost abandoned.
Empty and silent, with no students in sight.
Persha tried one of the doors along the hallway, but it was locked.
He continued walking until he reached the giant door at the very end of the corridor.
Exactly where she had said it would be.
He turned the handle and stepped inside.
The room was breathtaking.
Massive windows stretched across the walls, allowing sunlight to flood into the space.
The bright light illuminated countless sculptures scattered throughout the room.
“Hello?” he called out.
No response.
Curious, he began walking around instead.
The room was filled with beautiful sculptures of all kinds.
“Wow…
beautiful,” he whispered softly, tracing his fingers across one of them.
It was a sculpture of a woman, her face twisted in either pain or disgust as she cradled something wrapped carefully in cloth.
“Must be a baby,” he murmured.
“What are you doing here?”
Persha nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Fuck me,” he gasped, clutching his chest.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
Then he finally looked at her properly.
Oh.
Zabi simply stared at him.
“Why are you here?” she repeated.
And for the first time, Persha really looked at the woman standing before him.
Tall.
Maybe six foot four.
Lean but clearly muscular enough to show she worked out regularly.
Long black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, framing her sharp face perfectly.
Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing veiny hands dusted lightly with clay and paint.
Her dark jumpsuit was smeared with dirt and plaster, evidence she had been working before he interrupted her.
In other words, she was sexy as hell.
“Are you deaf?”
Persha snapped out of his thoughts immediately.
“Are you Zabi?” he asked.
One of her brows lifted slightly.
Her gaze swept over him before landing on the bag in his hands.
She reaches to snatch it out his hands, but he’s faster, swiftly avoiding her grip and hiding it behind his back.
Their eyes locked again.
“Are you Zabi?” Persha repeated, folding his arms stubbornly across his chest.
She suddenly stepped closer, leaning down until her face was inches from his.
Anger burned clearly in her eyes.
“Do not pretend like you don’t know who I am while standing inside my building,” she whispered coldly.
Persha audibly gulped.
He handed her the bag properly this time.
“A simple yes would’ve sufficed,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
He turned to leave.
Only to be violently yanked backward by his arm.
His back slammed against one of the sculptures behind him.
“Let’s make this clear,” Zabi said slowly, leaning close to his face again.
“I do not tolerate disrespect.
When I ask who you are, you state your name and your business.
Got it?”
Persha visibly stiffened.
Victoria’s warning echoed loudly in his head.
” Not one you should fuck with”.
Still, he straightened himself quickly, preparing to defend himself.
“But I asked if you were Zabi.
A simple yes or no would’ve prevented my ‘disrespect, would you have preferred i gave your bag to someone else?,'” he argued.
At this point, he was fully prepared for whatever consequences came with disrespecting a council president in her own department.
But Zabi said nothing.
She simply stared at him.
“Your name?” she asked quietly.
“What?” Persha blinked.
“I asked your name,” she repeated, standing upright once more as she looked down at him.
“Persha,” he answered cautiously.
“Good.”
She stepped back.
“I’ll let Elena know I received my bag from Persha.
You may leave now.”
Persha wasted absolutely no time.
He practically rushed out of the room, hurrying down the hallway until he finally stepped back into the elevator.
The doors closed.
He released a deep breath.
“What a dick,” he muttered to himself while heading back toward his department to pack up.