Ariana found herself in the art studio, staring at a blank canvas. Kian stood beside her, brush in hand, sketching quietly.
"Can I try?" she asked, hesitant. ⏳
He nodded. "Paint what you feel. Not what you see."
She dipped her brush into warm oranges and soft pinks, letting the colors flow freely. Slowly, the blank canvas transformed into a sunset, alive and full of emotion.
"You're… talented," Kian said softly, eyes on her face. "I didn't know you could capture feelings like this."
Ariana's cheeks warmed. "You make it easy to feel something… even when I'm not sure what it is."
He looked at her then, really looked, and for a moment, Ariana felt exposed in the gentlest way. She wanted to lean closer, to reach for his hand, but hesitation held her back.
Kian's brush paused. "I like watching you create," he admitted quietly. "It's… inspiring." 🌇
Her heart fluttered. Inspiration and affection mingled in the air, heavy and electric. She realized that every small gesture, every glance, every quiet word between them had been leading to this—the unspoken closeness that made her chest ache.
When they finally stepped back to view their canvases, their shoulders brushed lightly. Neither moved away immediately. The sun outside had dipped below the horizon, and the room glowed with the soft orange of their painted sunset. 🌅