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Who is this sassy lost child
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Cristo breathed in deeply, just barely managing to avoid letting it all out in a sigh again. Everything about this situation was uncomfortable and he wanted it over right now. Just what on Earth did Nadia want him to do? He'd apologized. He'd tried to explain himself. He'd tried to point out that he wasn't hurting anyone any more than she was here.

But she wouldn't stop. He couldn't figure out what kind of point she was even trying to make. All she was doing was lording over him how everything he'd done in this exchange was wrong.

Nadia might have been fascinating to wonder about, but Cristóbal was starting to think that he didn't like her all that much.

"No," he said lowly. "I don't want that. And I meant it when I said was sorry for making you uncomfortable." Now please, please, please walk away. Just let this horrendously awkward encounter end so that he could go home and be away from people for the rest of the afternoon.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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I could live in the world just like a stranger · Liberty Park