Finding light in the darkest places—through love

Evelyn had no idea how she ended up walking along the quiet streets with Adrian at nearly two in the morning.

After leaving the art studio, they hadn't returned to the dorms. Instead, Adrian had led her toward a late-night café nestled between dimly lit buildings.

The place was nearly empty, save for a tired-looking barista and a student hunched over a laptop in the corner.

Adrian ordered for both of them without asking.

"One hot chocolate for the artist and a black coffee for me."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow as they sat at a small table by the window.

"Do I not get a say in what I drink?"

"Nope,"

he said with a smirk.

"You look like you need something warm."

She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. When the barista placed the cup in front of her, the scent of chocolate and cinnamon curled around her senses.

She took a sip, the warmth spreading through her chest. Maybe he had a point.

"So,"

Adrian leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

"Are you gonna tell me why you stopped painting?"

Evelyn hesitated.

She should've seen this coming.

"I told you,"

she said quietly, tracing a finger along the rim of her cup.

"Life got in the way."

He didn't look convinced.

"That's what people say when they don't want to tell the real reason."

She tensed. The way he could read through her defenses was unsettling.

Adrian sipped his coffee, observing her.

"Was it your parents?"

Her fingers clenched around the cup.

His expression softened.

"Evelyn…"

She exhaled sharply.

"They never thought art was worth anything,"

she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Every time I tried to show them something I made, they'd just brush it off. Said I should focus on 'real' things. Things that mattered."

Adrian's jaw tightened.

"That's bullsh*t."

She let out a humorless laugh.

"Yeah, well, it worked. I stopped painting. Stopped believing it mattered."

Adrian set his cup down with a soft thud.

"And do you still believe that?"

Evelyn met his gaze.

Something flickered in his eyes—something fierce and unwavering.

And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure how to answer.

"I don't know,"

she admitted.

He leaned back, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

"Well, that's better than a no."

She shook her head with a small smile.

"You're impossible."

"I know,"

he said, grinning.

"But hey, at least I got you to talk."

She took another sip of her hot chocolate, feeling the tension in her chest ease just a little. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.