Claudio's POV
The dance studio is quiet except for the music and her breathing.
Elara moves like she belongs to the sound—every step soft, precise, effortless. She doesn't notice me sitting near the mirror, sketchbook open, pencil following her without thought.
I like watching her when she doesn't know.
This is Elara unfiltered. Honest. Free.
I sketch quickly—the line of her shoulders, the way her hands carve the air, the focus in her eyes. My chest tightens with something close to awe.
The music fades. She finishes, breath uneven.
Then the door opens.
Alex.
He claps once. Loud in the quiet room. "That was amazing''My hand freezes.
Elara turns, smiling. "You scared me."
"Sorry," he says, stepping inside. "Didn't mean to interrupt."
I look down at my sketch. The face isn't finished.
Alex moves closer to her, says something I don't catch. Elara laughs softly.
That's enough.
I close the sketchbook.
I stand, and that's when Elara finally notices me.
"Claudio?" Her voice is surprised. "How long have you been here?"
"Not long," I lie.
Alex glances over. "Oh—hey."
I nod. "I was just leaving."
Elara steps toward me. "You didn't have to—"
"It's fine," I say gently. Too gently. "I'll see you."
I leave before she can finish her sentence.
Behind me, the door closes.
Elara's POV
I'm still catching my breath when Alex walks in, clapping.
"That was really good," he says. "You're incredible."
"Stop," I laugh. "You're making me nervous."
We talk for a minute—nothing serious. Just easy words.
Then I notice Claudio.
Sitting near the mirror. Sketchbook in his hands.
My heart jumps.
"Claudio? I didn't know you were here."
He looks like he's been caught in the middle of something important.
"I was just leaving," he says.
"Wait—" I start.
But he's already walking away.
The door closes, and something in my chest sinks.
Alex watches him go, then turns back to me. "Hey… actually, there's something I wanted to ask you."
I look at him. "What is it?"
He hesitates. "It's about Freya."
The word lands differently now.
"I think I like her," he says. "I don't know how to talk to her without making it awkward."
Understanding dawns on me instantly. I smile. "Alex… that's actually kind of sweet."
"You'll help me?" he asks.
"Of course," I say. "She's my best friend."
He relaxes, relieved.
But my eyes drift back to the door Claudio left through.I don't know why I feel unsettled.
I just know… he was watching me before Alex ever walked in.
And somehow, that feels important.
Claudio's POV — Later That Day
The room is quiet.
Too quiet.
The only sound is the scratch of my pencil as it moves across paper. I'm sitting on my bed, knees pulled close, sketchbook open in front of me. The page holds her—almost complete.
Elara.
Her posture is perfect. The tilt of her head, the softness in her expression. I've drawn her a hundred times before, but this one feels heavier. Like it remembers the moment for me.
I erase a line. Redraw it. Pause.Why did Alex come?
The question circles my thoughts like it has all evening. He hadn't looked surprised to see her dancing. He'd walked in like he belonged there.
Like he always does.
My grip tightens around the pencil.
Maybe Elara invited him.
Maybe he comes often.
Maybe that smile she gave him wasn't just friendliness.
I shade her eyes darker than I meant to. Quickly erase it. She deserves light, not my doubts.
I lean back, staring at the ceiling.
It shouldn't matter.
Alex is my brother. Elara is my friend. This is how things work. I remind myself of that like it's a rule I forgot to follow.
But I remember the way she laughed when he clapped. The way her body relaxed when she saw him.
And I hate myself for noticing.I look back at the sketch and add the final details—the curve of her fingers, the flow of her hair mid-movement. I stop just before finishing her eyes.
I can't.
Because if I draw them exactly as they were this afternoon—focused, alive, free—they'll remind me of the truth.
She wasn't dancing for him.
But he still stepped into her world.
I close the sketchbook slowly.
Some things are better unfinished.
I set the pencil down, exhale, and stare at the closed cover.
Alex has always been louder. Brighter. Easier to love.
And I've always been the one watching from the edges.
Still.
I lie back, one arm over my eyes, and let the thought settle quietly in my chest:
What if she chooses him too?