The neon glow of Lumora's skyline pulsed outside Elise Harper's apartment window, but inside, the world felt too quiet. She sat cross-legged on her worn couch, a canvas balanced on her lap, her paintbrush hovering over a half-finished swirl of deep indigo and silver. The painting was supposed to capture the Andromeda galaxy—the one Julian had shown her at the observatory—but every stroke felt wrong, like she was chasing a feeling she couldn't name. Her encounter with Liam at the gallery last night had left her rattled, his smug smile reopening wounds she'd thought were healed. And then there was Julian, with his quiet warmth and that notebook he guarded like a secret. Why did he make her heart race when she'd sworn to keep it locked away?
Elise set the brush down, her hands trembling slightly. She wasn't this person—someone who let a guy, or two, throw her off balance. She was an artist, damn it. She created beauty from chaos, not wallowed in it. But the memory of Liam's voice, dripping with condescension, and Julian's steady presence beside her on the rooftop deck kept colliding in her mind, like stars caught in a cosmic tug-of-war.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling her out of her spiral. A text from Maya: You okay after last night? Liam's a jerk, but Star Guy was totally into you. Spill the tea!
Elise groaned, tossing her phone aside without replying. Maya meant well, but her relentless optimism was too much right now. She stood, pacing her tiny living room, the hardwood creaking under her bare feet. Her apartment was a clutter of art supplies—tubes of paint scattered across a rickety table, sketches pinned to the walls, a half-empty mug of tea forgotten on a shelf. It was her sanctuary, but tonight it felt like a cage, trapping her with thoughts she didn't want to face.
A knock at the door startled her. She froze, glancing at the clock: 9:23 p.m. Who showed up unannounced this late? Clara was working late, and Maya would've texted first. Her stomach twisted as she imagined Liam standing there, ready to dig up more of their painful past. But when she opened the door, it was Julian, his dark hair damp from the evening drizzle, his hands shoved into the pockets of his navy coat.
"Julian?" Elise blinked, her heart doing that infuriating flip again. "What are you doing here?"
He shifted, looking almost as surprised to be there as she was. "I… wasn't sure I should come. I got your address from Maya. She said you might need a friend after last night." His voice was soft, hesitant, like he was testing the waters. "I can go if this is a bad time."
"No, it's fine," Elise said quickly, stepping aside to let him in. Her apartment suddenly felt smaller, his presence filling the space with a warmth she wasn't prepared for. "Maya's got a big mouth, but she's not wrong. Last night was… a lot."
Julian nodded, his eyes scanning the room, lingering on the canvases and sketches. "Your place is like a gallery," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's you."
Her cheeks warmed, and she busied herself clearing a pile of sketchbooks from the couch. "It's a mess, but it's home. Want some tea? I don't have coffee, but I can manage something."
"Tea's good," he said, settling onto the couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful, like he was trying to read her the way he read the stars.
She filled the kettle, grateful for the excuse to turn away. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her mind was racing. Why was he here? And why did she feel so nervous, like she was standing on the edge of something she couldn't control? She stole a glance at him, catching the way his fingers tapped absently against his knee, a nervous habit she hadn't noticed before.
"So," she said, leaning against the counter as the kettle hummed. "You didn't come all the way here just to check on me, did you?"
Julian's smile faded slightly, replaced by that guarded look she'd seen at the café. "Maybe I did," he said. "You seemed upset last night. That guy—Liam—he got under your skin."
Elise's stomach clenched. She didn't want to talk about Liam, not with Julian, not when her emotions were already a tangled mess. "He's my ex," she said, her voice tighter than she intended. "We dated a couple of years ago. It didn't end well."
Julian nodded, his expression softening. "I figured it was something like that. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
The kettle whistled, and Elise poured the tea, grateful for the distraction. She handed him a mug—mismatched, like everything in her apartment—and sat across from him on a rickety chair. "It's not a big deal," she lied, wrapping her hands around her own mug. "He was a photographer, thought he was God's gift to art. I thought he loved me, but he loved the idea of me more. When things got tough, he bailed. End of story."
But it wasn't the end, not really. Liam's betrayal had left scars—doubts about her worth, her art, her ability to be enough for anyone. She sipped her tea, avoiding Julian's gaze, afraid he'd see too much.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made her look up. "I know what it's like to carry something like that. Someone you thought would stay, but didn't."
Her breath caught. There was a story behind his words, one he wasn't telling. "Who was it for you?" she asked, her curiosity outweighing her caution. "Someone you lost?"
He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the mug. For a moment, she thought he'd brush her off, but then he spoke, his voice low and raw. "My sister, Anna. She died five years ago. Cancer. She was only nineteen."
Elise's heart ached, the pain in his voice cutting through her own defenses. "Julian, I'm so sorry," she said, leaning forward. "That's… awful."
He nodded, staring into his tea like it held answers. "She was the one who got me into astronomy. Used to drag me outside at night to look at the stars, even when I was too busy with school. After she was gone, I… I threw myself into work. It was easier than feeling anything."
Elise swallowed hard, her own pain mirroring his. She knew what it was like to hide behind something—her art, her sarcasm—to keep the hurt at bay. "Is that what's in your notebook?" she asked softly. "Something about her?"
He looked up, startled, like she'd seen through him. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Notes, sketches, things she loved about the stars. I keep it to… I don't know, hold onto her, I guess."
The vulnerability in his eyes broke something open in Elise. She wanted to reach out, to touch his hand, but fear held her back. Instead, she stood, grabbing her sketchbook from the coffee table. "Here," she said, flipping to a page she rarely showed anyone—a sketch of a girl sitting alone under a starry sky, her face blurred but her posture heavy with longing. "This was after Liam left. I drew it to… make sense of things."
Julian studied the sketch, his expression unreadable but soft. "It's beautiful," he said. "And sad. Like you were trying to find yourself in it."
Her throat tightened. "Yeah. Something like that."
For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their shared confessions filling the room. The city's hum drifted through the window, but it felt distant, like the world was holding its breath. Elise's heart pounded, her emotions a chaotic mix of fear and hope. Julian wasn't Liam—he wasn't charming her with empty promises—but that didn't mean she could trust him. Did it?
"I should go," Julian said, setting his mug down and standing. "It's late, and I didn't mean to… unload all that."
"You didn't," Elise said quickly, standing too. "I mean, I'm glad you told me. And I'm glad you're here."
He smiled, a small, genuine smile that made her chest ache. "Me too. Maybe next time I'll bring you to the observatory. Show you something new."
Her lips curved despite herself. "Only if you promise not to make me look through a telescope for hours."
"Deal," he said, his eyes crinkling with warmth. He paused at the door, looking back. "Thanks, Elise. For letting me in."
She nodded, unable to find words as he stepped into the hallway and the door clicked shut behind him. For a long moment, she stood there, her heart racing, her mind spinning with the weight of his story and the unexpected pull she felt toward him. She'd let him see a piece of her, and he hadn't run. That had to mean something, right?
But as she sank back onto the couch, her eyes fell on her phone, where a new text notification glowed. It was from an unknown number, but the message made her blood run cold: Hey, Elise. It's Liam. We should talk. I miss you.
Her fingers hovered over the phone, her heart caught between the warmth of Julian's visit and the icy grip of Liam's words. She'd worked so hard to move on, to build a life that was hers alone. But now, with Julian's notebook and Liam's shadow looming, she felt like her carefully painted world was cracking at the seams. Could she trust her heart to lead her toward Julian, or would the past pull her back into its orbit?