Chapter 16: Midnight Canvas

That night, long after the town had fallen asleep, I found you in the studio. The room was dark except for the soft glow of a lamp and the moonlight spilling through the window. You stood before a canvas, barefoot, your hair a little messy, your eyes full of something distant and deep.

You didn't hear me at first. I watched in silence as your brush moved with a quiet intensity, each stroke revealing a piece of your heart. And then I saw it: the painting was of us sitting by the river from a memory we shared, sunlight warming our faces, your hand in mine.

When you noticed me, you didn't speak. You just smiled, that soft kind of smile that says, "I knew you'd find me here."

I walked to you, wrapping my arms around your waist from behind, resting my chin on your shoulder.

"It's beautiful," I whispered.

"No," you replied. "It's real."

We stood there, wrapped in paint and silence and love, while the midnight sky watched over us.