The ride to Isabelle’s apartment was filled with a comfortable silence. Neither of them spoke much, but the quiet between them was no longer strained. Instead, there was an understanding—a connection that didn’t need words to fill the space.
When they arrived outside her building, Adrien turned to her. “I’d love to see your work sometime. If you don’t mind, of course.”
Isabelle hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I don’t mind. You can come in now, if you’d like.”
Adrien followed her up the narrow staircase to her apartment. As they stepped inside, the space was as she’d always known it—small but cozy, with canvases stacked against the walls and brushes scattered across the table. Despite its size, it was her sanctuary.
Adrien wandered slowly, pausing to admire the paintings she had been working on. His eyes lingered on one canvas in particular—one she had poured her heart into after their first encounter. It was raw and full of emotion.
“This one,” Adrien murmured, stopping in front of it. “There’s something powerful about it.”
Isabelle’s chest tightened. That painting had been her way of working through the emotions swirling inside her since the day Adrien walked into the café. She hadn’t meant for him to see it.
“It’s... personal,” she said softly.
Adrien turned to her, his eyes serious. “You don’t have to explain. I can feel it.”
The air between them seemed to shift as they stood there, surrounded by her work. There was a vulnerability in his voice that Isabelle hadn’t expected, and for a moment, it was as if their worlds weren’t so different after all.
Adrien’s gaze flickered back to her, a softness in his eyes that made her heart race. “I’ve been thinking about what happened at the café. I didn’t mean to be distant.”
Isabelle bit her lip, unsure of what to say. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Maybe not,” Adrien replied, his voice low. “But I want to give you one.”
He paused, looking down as if trying to find the right words. “I’ve never been good at... this. Opening up. Getting close to people.”
Isabelle’s heart skipped a beat. “Is that what you’re trying to do?”
Adrien lifted his eyes to hers, the answer clear in the look he gave her. “I don’t know. But I do know that I can’t seem to stay away.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away.
But before either of them could say more, Adrien glanced at his watch and sighed. “I have to go. My meeting’s starting soon.”
Isabelle nodded, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Of course.”
He took a step toward the door, but before he left, he turned back to her, his voice soft. “I’ll be in touch.”
Isabelle watched him leave, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what was happening between them, but for the first time in a long while, she felt like she wasn’t completely alone.
YOU ARE READING
PARISIAN HEARTS
Любовные романыUnder the shimmering lights of Paris, Isabelle, a struggling artist, is drawn into a world she never imagined. When she meets Adrien, a powerful businessman with a guarded heart, their lives become intertwined in a dance of passion and longing. As t...
