The festival had reached its peak. Students wandered between booths, laughing and cheering, while teachers announced winners for various competitions. Anaya wandered back to the art room, hoping to steal a quiet moment away from the crowded auditorium.
Her sketchbook was tucked under her arm, heart still racing from Kian's performance. She couldn't stop replaying the song in her mind—the way every lyric seemed meant for her, the soft smile he had given when their eyes met.
"Hey," a familiar voice called from the doorway.
Anaya froze. Kian stood there, holding a small piece of paper—her sketchbook, unmistakably.
"I… I wanted to see this again," he said quietly, eyes scanning the sketches. "And… now I know."
Anaya's heart skipped. "Know… what?"
"That you are the artist." His gaze softened, but there was a teasing spark in his eyes. "The one whose sketches I've been admiring for weeks. It's you."
Anaya's mouth went dry. She could feel her face heating uncontrollably. "I… it's me?" she whispered, voice trembling. "You… you mean it?"
Kian nodded. "I mean it. I've seen your art before, and I couldn't stop thinking… wow. This is all yours?" He gestured to the display. "It's incredible."
Anaya's knees nearly buckled. "I… I didn't know… you noticed." She laughed nervously, clutching her sketchbook. "I… I thought you'd think it was childish."
Kian shook his head, smiling warmly. "Childish? No way. It's… beautiful. You're beautiful. The way you see the world… it's amazing."
Anaya's heart raced. He actually gets me… She had been so scared of judgment, of someone discovering her art—and now the one person she cared about most saw it and… appreciated it.
Rhea, who had quietly followed her, couldn't resist a playful laugh. "Told you! Someone special notices the good stuff. Finally!"
Anaya shot Rhea a mock glare but couldn't suppress her smile.
Kian leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. "I wanted to ask you for weeks… could I maybe… see more of your work sometime? Maybe… we could… draw together?"
Anaya felt her chest tighten. The offer wasn't just about art—it was an invitation, a step into something new. "I… I'd like that," she said softly.
For a few moments, the noisy festival faded around them. It was just the two of them, connected by admiration, curiosity, and a quiet, budding bond. The tension, the mystery, the nervous excitement—all of it crystallized into a moment they both would remember.