Alina’s mother’s voice rang sharply through the house from downstairs.

“Alina, wake up! It’s already late!” her mother shouted, the sound of plates clinking against the dining table following right after.

But Alina had already been awake for nearly an hour.

The early sunlight slipped softly through the curtains of her bedroom, painting golden lines across the floor. She stood in front of the mirror quietly, carefully adjusting the sleeves of her soft white sweater for what felt like the tenth time.

Her eyes examined every small detail. The way her hair rested against her shoulders. The faint pink tint on her lips. The nervous sparkle in her eyes. Slowly, a grin spread across her face.

“Hm…” Alina murmured to herself while tilting her head slightly. “You look cute today, girl.”

The thought alone made warmth rush straight into her cheeks.

Leroy.

Just hearing his name inside her head was enough to make her heartbeat lose control.

Her fingers pressed lightly against her chest as if that would somehow calm the wild rhythm there.

Ridiculous. She hadn’t even seen him yet.

“I’m coming, Mom!” Alina shouted back quickly before grabbing her bag from the chair beside her desk.

She rushed downstairs two steps at a time.

The warm smell of toasted bread, butter, and fried eggs filled the kitchen, but she barely looked at the table. Her mother stood near the counter with crossed arms, already dressed for work.

“At least sit down for five minutes,” her mother complained. “You’re going to ruin your stomach one day.”

“I know, I know!” Alina replied quickly.

Without slowing down, she grabbed a sandwich from the plate and snatched the strawberry shake beside it.

“Mom, I’m really sorry!” Alina said through hurried breaths while stuffing half the sandwich into her mouth. “I can’t eat breakfast today—I need to go! Bye!”

“Alina—!”

But the front door had already slammed shut before her mother could finish speaking.

Outside, the chilly morning air brushed softly against her skin.

The streets were still quiet, touched by the pale blue calmness of early morning. A few leaves rolled across the sidewalk as she walked down the familiar road she had memorized years ago.

Her mood felt impossibly light.

A small rock rolled beneath her shoe, and absentmindedly, she kicked it forward. It bounced several times along the pavement before finally stopping near the front gate of a modest two-story house.

And instantly, her heartbeat quickened again. She stopped walking. For a brief moment, she simply stared at the house. The windows were still closed. The curtains untouched.

Everything about the place carried Leroy’s quiet personality—simple, calm, distant.

Alina inhaled deeply before walking to the front door.

Then she pressed the bell.

Once.

Twice.

A few seconds later, she heard slow footsteps approaching from inside.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

Leroy stood there with sleepy eyes and messy dark hair that looked like he had just dragged himself out of bed. His loose black shirt hung carelessly over one shoulder, exposing part of his collarbone.

For a second, he simply stared at her.

His tired gaze traveled slowly from her face down to her shoes before returning to her eyes again.

“This is too early…” Leroy muttered in a rough morning voice, stepping aside to let her enter.

Alina tried very hard not to stare at him too obviously.

Failed instantly.

“I-I just woke up early today,” Alina replied casually while walking inside.

The familiar scent of paint and coffee lingered faintly in the house. She dropped onto the living room couch comfortably and placed her backpack beside her as if she belonged there already.

Behind her, Leroy shut the door with a tired sigh.

“Hmm,” Leroy murmured. “Then you’ll have to wait for me.”

A mischievous smile slowly appeared on Alina’s lips.

“I can wait,” Alina replied softly.

Leroy started walking toward the hallway.

Then she added quietly—

“I can wait for you until you finally say yes to me.”

His footsteps stopped instantly. The silence that followed felt dangerously heavy. Even the ticking clock on the wall suddenly sounded louder. Slowly, Leroy turned around.

For a moment, he said nothing. He only stared at her. At the confidence shining in her bright eyes.

At the stubborn smile that never disappeared no matter how many times he rejected her.

At the girl who somehow continued standing in front of him without fear.

Then he began walking toward her.

One step.

Then another.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Until Alina instinctively leaned backward against the couch cushions.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Leroy stopped directly in front of her.

One of his hands pressed against the couch beside her shoulder, trapping her between himself and the cushions as he leaned closer.

Too close.

“Do you even realize what you’re saying?” Leroy asked quietly.

His low voice carried a dangerous calmness that instantly made Alina nervous.

Still, she forced herself not to look away.

“Y-Yes,” Alina whispered softly. “Of course I do.”

Her voice sounded much less confident now. But she still meant every word.

Alina had only recently turned nineteen. And in her opinion, becoming an adult meant nobody had the right to decide her feelings for her anymore.

Not her parents. Not society. And definitely not Leroy.

She had fallen for him when she was only fourteen years old.

She still remembered the exact moment clearly.

Back then, her father had taken her to Leroy’s art studio for the first time. The studio smelled like paint, charcoal, and old paper. Sunlight had poured through the tall windows while unfinished canvases leaned carelessly against the walls.

And in the middle of that quiet mess stood Leroy.

Young.

Calm.

Silent.

His fingers stained with paint while he focused on a canvas as though the rest of the world didn’t exist.

That was the moment she lost completely.

His calm voice.

His distant eyes.

The quiet sadness hidden inside his expressions.

Everything about him stayed in her mind long after that day ended.

At fourteen, she already knew nobody would ever take her feelings seriously.

A schoolgirl’s crush. That was all people would call it. So she waited. Patiently. Stubbornly. She waited until she turned eighteen.

And for the past year, she had chased after him openly without shame, hesitation, or regret. Because Alina never gave up on things she truly wanted. Especially not him.

Leroy, meanwhile, was twenty-eight.An artist. An art teacher.

A man who preferred silence over unnecessary complications.

For years, he had known exactly how Alina felt. At first, he ignored it.

He convinced himself it was nothing more than childish admiration that would eventually disappear with time.

But time passed. And her feelings never faded. If anything, they only became more intense.

More dangerous. And now—

Standing inches away from her.

Looking directly into eyes filled with unwavering certainty—

Leroy was no longer sure which one of them had started crossing the line first.

Leroy pulled away from her so suddenly that Alina blinked in surprise.

One second, he had been leaning dangerously close, his voice low enough to make her heart tremble.

And the next—

He stepped back as though he had touched something he shouldn’t have.

Without saying another word, Leroy turned around and walked toward the hallway with long, quiet strides.

Alina stared after him, confused.

The atmosphere he had created moments ago still lingered heavily around her, making it difficult to breathe normally.

Then his bedroom door shut. A second later, she heard another sound. The bathroom door opening. Then closing.

Silence followed.

Alina remained sitting on the couch with her knees pulled together tightly, her fingers absentmindedly twisting the edge of her sweater sleeve.

One minute passed. Then another few. And another.

Usually, Leroy was quick in the mornings. Too quick.

He was the type of person who could wake up, shower, get dressed, and leave the house in less than fifteen minutes.

But today? Today he was taking forever.

A suspicious smile slowly appeared on Alina’s lips. Her eyes drifted toward the hallway again.

“Is he hiding from me now?” Alina mumbled softly to herself.

The thought alone made her mood brighten instantly. Because if Leroy was hiding from her—

Then that meant she was affecting him.

Finally.

That dangerous confidence slowly returned to her expression. Curiosity quickly got the better of her.

Alina stood up from the couch quietly and picked up her bag before setting it down again after realizing she didn’t actually need it.

Her feet moved almost automatically toward the hallway.

Step by step.

The closer she got to his room, the louder her heartbeat became. The house felt strangely quiet. Too quiet.

Alina stopped in front of his bedroom door. For a second, she hesitated. Then slowly, she reached toward the doorknob—

But before her fingers could touch it—

The door suddenly opened from the other side. Alina froze instantly. And so did her thoughts.

Leroy stood there fresh out of the shower.

Damp strands of dark hair fell messily across his forehead, some sticking lightly to his skin. Tiny droplets of water slid slowly from his hair down the side of his neck before disappearing beneath the loose collar of his white shirt.

The fabric clung faintly against his chest from the lingering moisture.

His skin still carried the warmth of steam.

And somehow, his sharp eyes looked brighter than before.

Too bright. Too awake. Too focused on her.

Alina unconsciously lifted her gaze higher. And higher.

God.

The height difference between them was genuinely unfair.

She had to tilt her head back just to properly meet his eyes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The silence stretched unbearably between them.

Alina suddenly became painfully aware of how close he was standing.

Close enough for her to smell the faint scent of soap lingering on his skin.

Close enough to catch the familiar scent of paint that somehow never completely left him no matter how many times he showered.

Close enough to completely destroy her ability to think normally.

Her breath caught quietly in her throat.

Heat rushed straight to her face almost instantly, spreading across her cheeks and turning the tips of her ears bright pink.

And unfortunately—

Leroy noticed immediately.

His eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze lingered on her flushed expression.

Then slowly, his attention moved lower. To the way she nervously avoided eye contact. To the way her fingers curled slightly against her sleeves. To the way she looked completely trapped despite being the one who walked toward him first.

“…What are you doing here?” Leroy asked quietly.

But his voice lacked its usual calmness.

There was something rougher beneath it now. Something less controlled.

Alina opened her mouth to answer. Then immediately closed it again.

Because honestly?

She had completely forgotten why she came there in the first place.

Her mind had gone blank the moment she saw him standing there looking like that.

Leroy watched her struggle silently for a second.

Then slowly, he lifted one arm and placed his hand against the doorframe above her head.

The movement trapped her once again inside that dangerously small space between them.

Alina’s heartbeat nearly stopped.

“You were bold a few minutes ago,” Leroy murmured softly while leaning slightly closer. “What happened now?”

Another drop of water slid from his wet hair onto his shoulder before slowly trailing lower beneath the damp fabric clinging lightly against his chest.

Without thinking, Alina’s eyes followed the movement unconsciously.

A terrible mistake.

The moment Leroy noticed where she was looking, a low chuckle escaped his lips.

Deep. Quiet. Dangerously amused. And that only made Alina’s face burn even hotter. She quickly looked away. But Leroy didn’t move back. If anything—

He seemed even more entertained now.

“What?” Leroy asked softly, his voice carrying the faintest trace of teasing. “You can confess so confidently but can’t even look at me properly?”

“I-I can look at you just fine,” Alina replied quickly.

Leroy raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

Slowly, deliberately, he leaned a little closer.

“Then look at me.”

Alina instantly regretted speaking.

Because now Leroy was looking directly at her with those sharp, unreadable eyes that always made her lose every ounce of confidence she had.

“Then look at me,” Leroy repeated softly.

Her throat tightened. Slowly, almost nervously, Alina lifted her gaze back toward him.

The moment their eyes met again, her heartbeat turned impossible to control.

He was too close. So close that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. So close that his damp hair brushed lightly against his forehead only inches away from her face. So close that even breathing suddenly felt dangerous.

Leroy watched her carefully. As though studying every tiny reaction she made. The slight trembling of her lashes. The way her lips parted unconsciously.

The way she tried so hard to appear brave while completely failing to hide how nervous she really was.

And somehow—

That expression in his eyes changed again. It softened. Only for a second. But Alina noticed.

Her breath caught quietly. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

The tension between them became unbearably thick, filling every inch of the narrow space around them.

Then slowly—

Leroy bent down closer. Alina’s eyes widened slightly. Her fingers instinctively tightened against her sleeves.

Closer.

And closer.

She could feel his breath now. Warm against her skin.

Every thought inside her head disappeared completely. There was only him.

Only the way his gaze lowered briefly toward her lips.

Only the way her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it too.

Leroy’s face stopped mere inches away from hers.

So close.

Too close.

Alina unconsciously leaned forward the smallest amount without even realizing it.

And then—

A loud ringtone suddenly shattered the moment.

Leroy froze.

His eyes closed immediately as a quiet breath escaped him, almost sounding like restrained frustration.

The phone continued ringing somewhere inside the room.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then slowly, Leroy opened his eyes again.

A faint smirk appeared at the corner of his lips after noticing the stunned expression still frozen on Alina’s face.

Without saying anything, he finally stepped back.

The warmth surrounding her disappeared instantly.

Leroy ran one hand through his damp hair before turning away from her.

And just like that—

The moment was gone.

The studio slowly fell into a comfortable silence after that interrupted moment.

Not an awkward silence. Not tense. Just quiet.

The kind of silence that naturally settled between two people who had already become used to each other’s presence.

Only the faint scratching of brushes against canvas and the soft rustling of paper filled the room from time to time.

Sunlight streamed through the tall studio windows, spilling warm golden light across the wooden floor beneath them. Dust particles floated lazily through the air, glowing every time they crossed the sunlight.

The familiar scent of paint, charcoal, and coffee lingered around the room.

Leroy sat near his easel with his usual calm concentration, one hand resting lightly against the edge of the canvas while the other guided his brush with careful precision. His expression had returned to normal—or at least, normal enough.

But every now and then, his eyes unfocused slightly. As if his thoughts kept drifting back to something. Or someone.

Across from him, however, Alina looked anything but focused. She sat with one leg tucked beneath her chair, paintbrush spinning lazily between her fingers while she stared at her blank canvas like it had personally offended her.

Every few seconds, her attention wandered elsewhere. Sometimes toward the shelves lined with old paint jars. Sometimes toward the ceiling beams above them. Sometimes toward the large studio windows. And far too often—

Toward Leroy.

The end of her paintbrush rested between her lips thoughtfully as she leaned back in her chair.

Her teeth lightly bit against the wooden handle while she thought deeply, and every few seconds, her soft lips brushed against it absentmindedly while searching for inspiration.

Leroy looked up once. Only once. And instantly regretted it. His hand froze mid-stroke.

A crooked black smear dragged sharply across his canvas, ruining the clean line he had been painting. For a second, he stared at the mistake silently.

Then he quietly cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from her mouth before she noticed his reaction.

“Just draw whatever you want,” Leroy said while pretending to focus on fixing the ruined paint stroke. “You think too much before starting.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Alina’s eyes lit up brightly. Almost suspiciously brightly. Leroy noticed immediately.

“…Why do I suddenly regret saying that?” he muttered under his breath.

“Really?” Alina asked innocently while lowering the brush from her lips.

“Yes,” Leroy replied carefully.

A slow smile spread across her face as she reached for her color palette.

“Then don’t peek,” Alina warned lightly.

Leroy narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.

“That warning alone makes me concerned,” Leroy said.

Alina only laughed softly in response before shifting her canvas farther away from him.

That somehow made him even more suspicious. From then on, she painted with surprising seriousness.

The playful expression gradually disappeared from her face, replaced instead with pure concentration. Her brows furrowed slightly while she mixed colors carefully on the palette, occasionally stepping back to study the canvas before continuing again.

Every now and then, she glanced toward Leroy briefly. Very briefly. Then immediately returned to painting. Leroy noticed every single glance. He simply pretended not to.

Still, the strange feeling in his chest only grew stronger the longer she painted.

Because Alina looked far too confident for someone supposedly painting randomly.

Nearly an hour and a half passed before she finally leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh.

“I’m done,” Alina announced proudly.

Then she looked at her finished painting—

And instantly blushed. That reaction alone made Leroy nervous. Very nervous.

Slowly, he placed his brush down and stood from his chair.

“What did you—” Leroy started while walking toward her.

But the words died in his throat the second he saw the canvas. Silence. His eyes locked onto the painting immediately.

It was a male figure. Broad shoulders. A soaked black shirt clinging tightly against defined muscles. Drops of water trailing slowly down the exposed neck and collarbone. The posture. The build. The atmosphere.

The face wasn’t painted. But it didn’t need to be.

Leroy recognized himself instantly.

His expression hardened slightly as he continued staring at the painting much longer than he probably should have. And somehow, that only made things worse. Because the details were far too accurate. Painfully accurate. Finally, Leroy exhaled slowly.

“…Are you serious?” Leroy asked quietly.

Alina immediately looked away from him and became very interested in cleaning her brushes.

“You told me to draw what I wanted,” Alina replied innocently.

“I meant an object,” Leroy said flatly. “Or scenery. Or literally anything else.”

“But this is what I wanted to draw,” Alina replied without hesitation.

Leroy closed his eyes briefly before rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. And then it hit him. "Draw what you want." Those had been his exact words.

A terrible. Terrible choice of words. Because Alina never did anything halfway. Ever.

When Leroy looked back at the painting again, his jaw tightened slightly.

The wet shirt. The posture. Even the subtle curve of the neck and shoulders. Every detail looked far too familiar. Which meant—

She had been staring at him much more than he realized. The realization sent another strange tension through him.

“You’re impossible,” Leroy muttered quietly.

At that, Alina finally looked up at him again. Her cheeks were still lightly pink from embarrassment. But her eyes remained stubbornly confident.

“And yet,” Alina said softly, “you still haven’t told me to stop.”