The Campus Gallery Ch 03

A couple of weeks had passed until Oliver worked with Quinn at the gallery again. He showed up that evening looking distracted. His usual smirk was missing, and instead of dropping his bag behind the counter like usual, he set it down with a heavy thud and slumped into the nearest chair.

Quinn raised an eyebrow from her spot behind the desk. "Rough day?"

"More like a rough semester," Oliver muttered. He dragged a hand through his messy hair. "This school, the classes.. It's just not what I thought it would be."

"What'd you expect?" Quinn asked, closing her sketchbook and looking over to him.

"I thought it would be about... I don't know, creating. Telling stories. But all we do is memorize books and analyze photos like they're math problems. The only shooting assignment I've had is shooting an egg in 1000 different ways. "He shook his head. "It's killing whatever passion I had for it."

"That's pretty much art intro classes, and you showed up to the school with a good understanding of the basics, and a hunger for the art of it. If it's any consultation from what Jaz told me, you are way ahead of the others in your class."

"Jaz?"

"Your TA, she's my roommate and best friend" She said.

Oliver perked up a bit, "so you've been asking about me?"

"I just wanted to know if you're as dumb as you look"

Quinn crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. "You're overthinking it. Photography's not just about gear and settings -- it's about seeing. Feeling."

"Yeah? Tell that to my professor," Oliver grumbled.

"Look, Intro classes suck, you kinda just have to push through them till you get to the fun stuff, plus you do need to know the basics so you have the skill and knowledge to do the more advanced work" "My first anatomy class was literally just weeks of drawing hands, do you have any idea how freaking hard it is to draw a hand and it not look weird?"

"Alright, freshman," Quinn said with a grin. "Grab your camera."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm gonna fix your attitude," she said, heading toward the back door. "You wanna see art the way it's supposed to feel? Let's go."

"Aren't we supposed to like to stay in the gallery?"

"I'm a rule breaker, and I need to just fix all of this... before it gets too late." She motioned at Oliver's body like it was a mess to clean."

Curious -- and desperate for inspiration -- Oliver followed her outside. The campus was quiet, dusk settling over the trees and buildings. Quinn led him past the library, down a path that cut behind the old lecture halls.

"Where are we--"

"Shh," Quinn whispered. "Just follow me."

She stopped near a patch of ivy crawling up the side of an old brick wall. The soft glow of a streetlight spilled across the leaves, making their edges shimmer like scales.

"Alright," she said, turning to him. "Shoot it."

Oliver blinked. "It's a wall."

"It's texture," she corrected. "Light and shadow." She turned her head, letting the streetlight catch her face. "Focus on what you feel, not what you think."

He hesitated, but lifted his camera. Framing Quinn against the ivy, he adjusted his settings and clicked the shutter. She shifted slightly, turning her profile into the light, her hair glowing copper under the warm glow. He snapped another shot, feeling that familiar buzz -- like something just clicked into place.

"See?" Quinn said softly, watching him lower the camera. "You just need to stop trying so hard."

Over the next couple of hours, Quinn continued to push Oliver out of his slump. She'd lead him around campus, finding places where the light hit just right, showing him the angles and textures he hadn't noticed before. As she led him back to the gallery, she walked him back down to the basement studio. And turned on her desk lamps, lighting her from behind.

"You're too stiff," Quinn muttered, watching him pace around a half-finished canvas with his camera in hand.

"I'm thinking," Oliver shot back.

"You're overthinking," she corrected. "Just--here." She grabbed her hair, twisting it into a loose knot at the top of her head. "Pretend I'm your subject."

"You want me to photograph you?" Oliver asked, lowering his camera slightly.

"Why not?" Quinn said, stepping in front of the cluttered table. "Come on, genius. Show me your vision."

Oliver swallowed hard but lifted his camera again. Quinn leaned on the table, crossing her arms and watching him with a teasing smirk. Her confidence made it hard to focus, but he found the shot--her sharp eyes framed by loose strands of hair, the glow of the desk lamp turning her copper highlights to fire.

"There," he muttered, clicking the shutter. "That's good."

"Oh?" Quinn grinned wider. "What's good about it?"

"You're... intense," he said, lowering the camera again.

She leaned one shoulder against a brick wall, letting her body curve naturally. As he took shot after shot, Then, with a mischievous look crossed her face and to his shock, she pulled her hoodie and t-shirt over her head, leaving her standing in just a bra and jeans. The glow of her desk lamps, providing a silhouette and rim light, highlighting her body's ample curves.

The air left his body, leaving him stunned, he forgot what he was doing and just starred lost in her form.

"Come on freshman, keep shooting before the light changes." she joked. "And you've already seen it all before"

Finding his voice. "That was different, those are paintings, this the first time I've seen... you in person."

"And the last time if you don't start shooting."

"You're not uncomfortable being down here, like this, with me?"

"Don't ruin it."

"Besides," she added, flashing an evil grin, "I could take you in a fight."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Oliver muttered, snapping a photo. "You'd probably throw a paint can at my head."

"I'd stab you with a paint brush," she said, deadpan. "More personal."

"So..." Oliver said, stepping closer. "You're saying if I screw up these shots, I should be worried?"

"Extremely." Quinn grinned, shifting her stance slightly. "Now shoot."

Oliver laughed softly, raising his camera again. The shot was perfect -- her smirk, the glint of confidence in her eyes, the shadows swallowing the world behind her. For once, he didn't overthink it. He just took the shot.

"Better?" Quinn asked as he lowered his camera.

"Yeah," Oliver said. "Way better."

Quinn's smile softened. "Told you. You're not bad when you stop getting in your own way."

"Yeah," Oliver murmured, still looking at her. "I think you might be my muse."

Quinn scoffed, but there was color rising in her cheeks. "Please," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Don't get weird about it."

"Too late," Oliver shot back, grinning.

"Come on," Quinn said, laughing as she turned back up toward the gallery, putting on

her hoodie. "You can't afford to pay me... And now you owe me a code red"

As they walked back to the desk, "so you still think it was a mistake coming here?"

"We'll see," Oliver said quietly.

"Maybe I just needed better inspiration," Oliver said, his voice quieter now. His camera still hung around his neck, but his attention was fully on her.

For a second, Quinn held his gaze -- and then she punched him lightly in the arm. "Let's not get dramatic, freshman."

Oliver grinned. "No promises."