"Plus, knowing you, I think you want everything to explode anyway," she said sarcastically. "You seem to enjoy chaos."
She smirked, satisfied as they entered the room. It was incredibly warm, and Poppy slipped out of her sweater. "Toasty, isn't it?"
She took out the phalanges and arranged them on a tin plate. This would be sent to the kiln. "Should we paint them, do you think?"
"The art studio, probably," she said thoughtfully. She began to walk out of the room and tugged on his arm. "Come on, this way."
She weaved through the hallways filled with art students and nudged open a door to reveal a dark classroom. "Come on," she said quietly. "I don't think we're supposed to be here."
She shot him a glance as she closed the door behind her. "I'm not, generally," she replied. "But I don't think I have white paint at home."
"Mmhm," she said distractedly. Suddenly, the door handle turned and Poppy turned to him with wide eyes. "Quick! Here." She pulled him behind a canvas sheet that was draped against the wall. The lights flickered on and they found themselves face to face with each other. Poppy blinked for a moment before giving him a mischevious grin and placing her finger on her lips, warning him to be quiet.
