Artistic Lover

The next day at school, Ethan kept his head down as usual, his sketchbook clutched tightly against his chest. The hum of students' chatter filled the hallways, but he moved through them like a ghost, unnoticed and unbothered. He was used to it by now, and most days, he preferred it that way.

But today felt different.

Luna's words from the night before weighed heavily on him. He couldn't shake the image of her fading, her warm smile tinged with sadness. Every time he thought about it, his chest tightened, a pang of fear mixed with longing.

He slipped into the library during lunch, finding his usual corner table by the window. It was quiet here, the perfect place to lose himself in his sketches. He flipped open his book and began to draw, letting the pencil glide across the page.

"𝐻𝑒𝓎, 𝐸𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃!"

The voice startled him, and he looked up to see Claire standing a few feet away, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. Her smile was as bright as ever, but there was a tentative edge to it, like she wasn't sure if she was welcome.

"ℍ𝕚," Ethan said awkwardly, his voice barely audible.

"𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚜𝚒𝚝?" she asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Ethan hesitated but nodded.

Claire pulled out the chair and sat down, setting her bag on the floor. For a moment, she didn't say anything, her gaze drifting to the sketchbook in front of him.

"𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠," she said finally. "𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍."

Ethan felt his face heat up. He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the page. "𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕤," he mumbled.

Claire leaned forward slightly, her tone light and conversational. "𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚆𝚎'𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕—𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑."

Ethan's grip on his pencil tightened. He shook his head quickly. "𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕤𝕠."

"𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝?" Claire asked, her voice curious rather than forcing.

"𝕀'𝕞 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥... 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘," Ethan said, avoiding her gaze.

"𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝?"

"ℙ𝕦𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖," he admitted.

Claire nodded thoughtfully, her expression understanding. "𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙸𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝."

Ethan glanced at her, surprised. "𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠?"

"𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑," Claire said, her smile softening. "𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗."

Her words struck a chord, and Ethan found himself thinking of Luna. The people who will see you for who you really are.

"𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨," he said finnally. "𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕕𝕒𝕪. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨."

Claire nodded, her expression kind. "𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛. 𝚂𝚘.. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔."

She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜?"

Ethan nodded mutely, watching as she walked away. His mind churned with conflicting emotions—fear, doubt, and a tiny flicker of something he wasn't ready to name.

---

That evening, Ethan sat in his room, staring at the sketchbook on his desk. Luna sat cross-legged on his bed, her gaze thoughtful as she watched him.

"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢," she said gently.

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕦𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕖𝕩𝕙𝕚𝕓𝕚𝕥."

"𝙰𝚗𝚍?" Luna asked, tilting her head.

"𝕀 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕟𝕠," Ethan admitted, his voice heavy. "𝕀'𝕞 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥."

Luna didn't respond immediately. She got up and walked over to him, leaning against the desk. "𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝙴𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗," she said softly. "𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘."

Ethan frowned, frustration bubbling up.

"𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕤𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕛𝕦𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕕, 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙."

Luna's expression didn't waver. "𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝.. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜."

Ethan looked at her, his chest tightening.

"𝕀'𝕞 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒.

𝕀'𝕞 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖."

"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎," Luna said. "𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝙴𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚝."

Her words settled in his mind, quiet but persistent.

Ethan picked up his sketchbook and flipped to a blank page. His hand trembled slightly as he began to draw, the lines coming together in soft, fluid strokes. When he finished, he sat back and stared at the page.

It was Luna, standing in a field of stars, her gaze steady and kind.

"𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗," he said quietly.

Luna smiled, her voice warm. "𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏."

Ethan looked at the drawing, a strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. For the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he could take the leap.

---

To Be Continued..