LINGER!

The Arrival

The city of Bellmont was a place where time seemed to linger in the whispers of old streets and the hum of modern life. It was here that Amelia first set foot, suitcase in hand, heart full of hope. She had come to Bellmont for a fresh start, leaving behind the chaos of her past in New York—the city that never slept but had exhausted her soul.

Amelia Bennett was a quiet beauty, the kind that didn’t announce itself but left an impression. At 27, she had a grace that spoke of life lived deeply, though not without its scars. She was an artist, a painter with a passion for capturing the unspoken emotions of the world around her. After her last exhibit had flopped and her relationship crumbled, she needed a new beginning, somewhere to find herself again. Bellmont, with its quaint charm and artistic allure, seemed the perfect place.

She rented a small loft in the heart of town, nestled above a bookstore that smelled of ancient pages and rich coffee. It was a modest space, with large windows overlooking the cobblestone streets and a small balcony where the wind would often carry the faint sound of music from a nearby café. This, she thought, was where she would heal, where she would paint again.

On her first night, Amelia found herself drawn to a local art gallery hosting a small event. The invitation had been slipped under her door by a friendly neighbor, Mrs. Caldwell, a retired schoolteacher who seemed to know everyone in town. Curiosity piqued, Amelia dressed in a simple black dress and made her way to the gallery, hoping to lose herself in the crowd.

As she wandered through the exhibit, admiring the works of local artists, her eyes were drawn to a single painting—bold, striking, and full of emotion. It was a portrait of a woman, her face half-obscured by shadows, her eyes brimming with a sadness Amelia recognized all too well. She stood there, captivated, as if the painting was whispering a secret only she could understand.

“You like it?” a deep voice asked from beside her.

Startled, she turned to see a man standing there, tall and effortlessly handsome, with dark hair that curled slightly at the ends. His eyes were piercing blue, and there was something about his presence that unsettled her, though not in an unpleasant way.

“It’s… beautiful,” she replied, her voice softer than she intended.

“The artist captured her pain well,” he said, gazing at the painting. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Amelia glanced at him again, curious. “Do you know the artist?”

He smiled, a small, enigmatic smile that made her heart flutter. “I do. It’s mine.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re the artist?”

He nodded, extending a hand. “Liam Harper.”

“Amelia Bennett,” she said, shaking his hand, still feeling a bit off-balance.

Liam’s grip was firm but gentle, his hand warm against hers. “I haven’t seen you around before. New to Bellmont?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Just moved here a few days ago.”

“Welcome to town,” he said, his smile softening. “I think you’ll like it here.”

Amelia found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t explain. There was something about Liam that made her want to know more, to understand the man behind the art. But as the evening wore on and they talked about art, life, and the quiet beauty of Bellmont, she realized there was also a darkness to him, a part of his soul that was hidden, much like the shadows in his paintings.

As the gallery event came to a close, Liam walked her home, their conversation flowing effortlessly. When they reached her door, there was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting tension that hung between them like an unspoken promise.

“I hope to see you again,” Liam said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Amelia nodded, her heart racing. “I’d like that.”

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the night, leaving her standing on the doorstep, her thoughts swirling with the possibility of something new, something unexpected.