𝐋'𝐎𝐄𝐔𝐅, 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌.

༺ Chapter III ༻

As Elena steps out of the house, the cool air of the evening seems to embrace her, offering a momentary escape from the stifling atmosphere of expectations and disapproval. She finds solace in the garden's quiet, where the only sounds are the rustling leaves and her steady breaths.

Seeing her need for support, Art excuses himself from the gathering and follows her outside. He finds her sitting on a bench, her attention fixated on the skies above, he joins her in silence.

Elena stole a glance, only to catch him already doing the same, His glistening blue eyes appeared different in the moonlight, accompanied with a soft expression of genuine concern etched on his face. The musky scent of his presence filled her senses, and the proximity of his body sent goosebumps racing across her skin—maybe it was the coldness of the night or simply his nearness, she couldn't tell. 

"Kinda rough back there, huh?" He spoke.

She was frustrated by the way he spoke to her, like his younger sibling. Always limited, always under discretion. His words were always chosen carefully, always constrained, always measured. He never asked about her personal life beyond her brother, her studies, and her tennis practice. He never saw her in the light she yearned to be seen.

Her feelings are complex, tinged with a sense of invisibility and yearning. She harbors a quiet frustration, feeling pigeonholed into the role of his best friend's little sister, which diminishes her true self in his eyes. There’s a longing for deeper connection, for him to see beyond the superficial layers of her life and recognize the multifaceted individual she is. She wants him to want to. She desires his acknowledgment, not just for the roles she plays in her daily life, but for the thoughts, dreams, and emotions that swirl beneath the surface. Ultimately, she seeks validation and understanding, a sign that he perceives her as she truly is, with all her aspirations and inner complexities.

She wanted to let him know, a confession. If she did, it would have been a significant moment for her, having the courage to express the depth of her emotions and the desire to be seen for who she truly is. A confession could potentially change the dynamics of their relationship, offering a chance for greater understanding or, alternatively, revealing the limitations of his perception of her.

Elena stood at the precipice of vulnerability, her heart aflutter with the weight of unspoken words.

'How could I admire someone so much that I barely know in such depth?' She thought.

"I'm getting used to it."
"You don't have to, you know that."
"Why Stanford?"
"How about you, why Stanford?"

In turn, her question, 'How about you, why Stanford?' mirrors his own, indicating a desire for reciprocity in their conversation.

"You can't just answer me with another question!" He chuckled.

Elena could only do nothing but sigh.

"It's my only chance of escaping the weight of her family’s expectations without being a total fuck up to them. Harvard Law School? Well shit."

"Well that's fucked up." He laughed. His laughter isn’t dismissive but rather an acknowledgment of the absurdity of the pressure she faces.

"Listen, I know it feels, trust me, been there. Harvard is an incredible opportunity, but it’s not the only path to success, let them know that. You’re not a failure for choosing a different path. It’s brave to follow your own course, especially when it’s different from what others expect of you. What matters most is your happiness and where you believe you’ll thrive. Trust yourself."

And before she even realized it, Art sidled up to her, and they were too close. All she thought was she was never this close to him before.

"You understand me?"

There she discovered a happy suprise, his left iris had two colors, spikes radiating from his pupils.

— ʚ♡ɞ —
end.