The next morning, as Lina sipped her coffee, her mind was still on Emir. That gaze, that untamed spirit… It was as if the chains around her heart had suddenly fallen away. Yet the allure of something forbidden carried both pleasure and fear.
In the following days, Lina began visiting the company more often under the pretext of supporting the art division's projects. The truth, however, was Emir. Every moment spent in his studio taught her how to breathe again. The scent of paint, the brushes sweeping across canvas, the unfinished works hanging on the walls… all of it opened a door to a world she had long been denied.
One late afternoon, when the building was nearly empty, Lina stopped by Emir's studio. He stood at the canvas, unconcerned about the paint splattered across his shirt, lost in the final strokes of his work. Lina lingered at the doorway, watching him.
— "It's as if you're painting not with your brush, but with your heart," Lina whispered softly.
Emir looked up, his eyes glowing.
— "Maybe I am. Isn't that the essence of art? To let the heart speak, and let the canvas listen."
The space between them shrank, and Lina felt her heartbeat quicken. Emir's eyes beckoned her, pulling her closer. She knew the danger of that moment, yet she couldn't retreat. Slowly, Emir set his brush aside and stepped toward her.
In the silence, only their breaths could be heard. Lina felt a long-forgotten electricity rushing through her body. Emir lifted his hand and gently brushed her cheek. Lina closed her eyes; the first spark of a forbidden love had already been ignited.