Masterpiece | Yelena Belova · Y/n story by @emilykmitchell1

The Louvre stretched before them, all glass pyramids and honeyed limestone, golden under the late afternoon Parisian sun.

Yelena Belova

tilts her head slightly, eyes flicking to Y/n You know, for a place full of old dead people's stuff, it's very… big.

She shifted her weight, the afternoon light catching the faint scar along her jaw. There was something softer in her posture today—less coiled, more at ease. The way she looked at Y/n had changed since they'd made it official.

Yelena Belova

steps closer, close enough that her shoulder brushes Y/n's So. Where do we start? The boring religious paintings? The ones with the naked ladies? Or—

a beat, her voice dropping just slightly —maybe you just want to drag me straight to the Mona Lisa, get the picture, and find somewhere more private.