The mont stretched longer than it should have. Natasha and I locked eyes, a silent yet charged exchange passing between us. Her beauty, subtle yet arresting, held captive. The confident way she sat, her eyes glinting behind her glasses, and her poised expression exuded an allure I couldn't deny.
"Can I help you?" she asked finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was husky, smooth like velvet, and the way her lips moved drew my attention in a way I hadn't expected.
Snapping out of it, I offered a polite smile. "Yes, actually. I'm looking for soone nad Natasha. Are you… her?"
She tilted her head slightly and gave a knowing look. "Yes, I am Natasha. And who are you?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "My na is Austin and for the cultural festival. You're in my team."
Her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise before she leaned back slightly in her chair. "Oh, I see. I was busy with this work that I forgot to check the list of my team mbers."
I glanced at the painting she had been working on and then gestured toward the empty chair beside her. "Mind if I sit?"
She hesitated for just a mont before nodding. "Go ahead."
As I settled beside her, I couldn't help but notice how much bolder her figure appeared up close. The sleeveless dress she wore clung to her curves, and her shyness added an intriguing layer to her bold exterior.
"So," I began, gesturing toward the canvas in front of her, "what are you working on?"
Her cheeks turned a faint pink, but she seed pleased by the attention. "Oh, this?" She turned the canvas slightly for to see.
The mont my eyes landed on it, my words died in my throat.
The painting was… a dick.
Not just any artistic rendition, but a strikingly detailed one. My mind froze, caught between confusion and an urge to laugh.
"It's for a nude model competition," Natasha explained with a small, sheepish smile.
I exhaled slowly, pushing down the awkwardness that tried to bubble up. "I see," I replied, forcing a casual tone. It's her work, I reminded myself. Nothing to overthink.
But Natasha sighed, her lips curving downward in a pout. "It's not good, though. It's… too small."
I blinked at her, unsure how to respond.
"It's my boyfriend's," she added, looking down at the canvas. "He offered to model for , but… it just won't do. I need sothing bigger. Thicker. Sothing that actually stands out. This just feels… underwhelming."
Her straightforwardness caught off guard. For a mont, I struggled to keep a straight face, my mind racing. Finally, I cleared my throat and leaned back, crossing my legs in an effort to appear composed.
"I'll be your model," I said, my voice calm yet confident.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and a delighted smile spread across her face. "Really? You'd do that for ?"
"Of course," I replied smoothly, leaning forward slightly. "Don't worry about a thing. You'll get exactly what you need. Trust ."
Natasha clapped her hands together in excitent, her joy infectious. "Thank you so much, Austin! You're a lifesaver!"
I grinned, playing it cool. "It's no problem. But," I added, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off my pants, "we should focus on eting the rest of our team first. We can handle the modeling session later."
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She nodded eagerly, carefully placing her brush back in its holder and packing up her supplies.
As we left the art room, I checked the list of our team mbers again.
Zayn (chanical Branch 2-B)
Natasha (Arts Branch 1-A)
Maya (dical Branch 1-C)
Claire (chanical Branch 3-A)
"Maya's next," I said, glancing at Natasha. "She's in the dical branch, so let's head there."
"Alright," Natasha replied, her tone lighter now that we'd struck an unusual deal. As we walked, I couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips. Her confidence and beauty drew attention, and the way she smiled occasionally at passersby made them believe we were a couple.
The murmurs and glances we received as we made our way to the dical branch didn't bother . If anything, I found them amusing.
"People seem to think we're together," I remarked casually.
Natasha giggled, her cheeks turning a soft pink. "Let them think whatever they want."
When we reached the dical branch, I approached a student standing near the door. "Excuse ," I said, "I'm looking for soone nad Maya."
The student pointed inside. "She's over there at the third desk."
Maya sat at her desk, her dark turtleneck sweater hugging her fra. Her expression was serious, and she radiated an air of no-nonsense professionalism.
Natasha and I approached her.
"Maya?" I asked.
She looked up, her gaze sharp and assessing. "Yes?"
I extended my hand. "I'm Austin, and this is Natasha. We're part of your team for the cultural festival."
Maya stood, her handshake firm and efficient. "Nice to et you," she said simply, before gathering her things. She didn't seem like the type for small talk, so our conversation remained brief as she joined us.
"Let's find the last two," I said, checking the list again. "Zayn and Claire are both in the chanical branch, so they're probably together."
The three of us headed toward the chanical branch.
As we approached, we saw two figures descending the stairs. One was a short, nerdy-looking guy adjusting his glasses, and the other was an energetic girl bounding down the steps.
The girl's eyes lit up when she saw . She ran toward with surprising enthusiasm, her hand grabbing mine before I could react.
"You're Austin, right? From the mathematics branch?"
"Y-yes," I stamred, startled by her proximity.
Her grip on my hand brought her chest dangerously close to , and I felt the soft press of her curves. She bead up at , completely oblivious to my awkwardness.
"I'm Claire!" she announced brightly. "From chanical 3-A. And this—" she gestured toward the guy behind her, "is Zayn from 2-B."
Zayn adjusted his glasses and nodded politely. "Nice to et you," he said in a calm, asured tone.
Claire's bubbly deanor was in sharp contrast to Zayn's reserved manner. She seed like a whirlwind of energy, while he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Natasha, standing beside , chuckled softly at the sight of Claire clinging to my hand like we were long-lost friends.
"Nice to et you, Claire," I said with a smile, gently pulling my hand free. "And you too, Zayn."
Zayn gave another small nod. "Likewise," he said, straightening his lenses.
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