Tackling the Canvas

Chapter 3

Nora

I wasn't avoiding him, was I? Ugh. Okay, maybe I was. I mean, yes, I checked his schedule to know exactly where he'd be and took the opposite direction, but that was just so I wouldn't get distracted... right? Maybe.

If I'm being honest, I wasn't avoiding him—I was avoiding the questions. The ones he'd ask if he saw me, about why I ran off without any explanation the other night. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to him, it was just... she needed me. And I told her I'd be there to help, no matter what. I couldn't break that promise.

Sighing, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Normally, I'd throw on my usual comfy clothes—hoodies, jeans, anything I could disappear into—but those were all in the laundry. So instead, I was left with a white summer dress that I'd completely forgotten about. It hugged my waist a little too snugly for my liking, making me groan in frustration. Of all the days to wear this.

With no other choice, I grabbed my bag, adjusting the dress uncomfortably one last time, and headed out the door toward the library.

___

I tried so hard to ignore the stares. The neckline of my dress was definitely lower than usual—more exposed than I ever felt comfortable with—and it was drawing more attention than I wanted. Every step I took, I felt eyes on me, making me wish I had thrown on anything else. By the time I reached the library, I let out a heavy breath, relieved to be away from the scrutinizing looks. God, how I missed my usual clothes.

Walking down the aisles, I finally spotted Owen at the usual table, his head down, focused on his phone. My presence must have caught his attention because the moment I looked in his direction, he lifted his head. His eyes widened for a split second, and I saw the faintest hint of surprise cross his face.

"Wow..." he mumbled, not loud enough for anyone else to hear but just enough for me to catch.

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. His gaze flickered down for the briefest moment, landing on the neckline of my dress, where more skin than usual was on display. Then, just as quickly, his eyes snapped back up to meet mine.

"Ready?" I asked, sliding into the chair across from him, hoping to move past the moment.

"Huh?" He blinked, like he hadn't heard me. Then, almost as if shaking himself out of his thoughts, he cleared his throat. "For the study session," I clarified, arching an eyebrow and giving him a knowing look.

"Oh, right—yeah," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck as if he'd been caught off guard. He hesitated for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I got a B+ on my last test."

I couldn't help but smile back. "That's great progress, Owen."

___

Whoever told me Owen was stupid had no idea what they were talking about. If he actually focused on what he needed to, he was damn good at it. He just had to care, and today, it seemed like he did. After the study session, as we packed up, he casually offered to walk me back to my dorm. I hesitated for a second, unsure if I wanted to blur the lines between tutor and... whatever this was. But in the end, I agreed. It wasn't like he was really giving me much of a choice anyway—his persistence was impossible to ignore.

As we walked side by side, his usual tough, laid-back demeanor seemed to flicker for a moment. I glanced up when I heard him clear his throat, sensing that maybe he was trying to figure out how to say something. His confidence was still there, but there was a slight shift, almost like he was weighing his words.

"Hey, uh, what are you doing on Sunday?" His voice was as steady as always, that tough edge unmistakable, but the way he scratched the back of his neck caught me off guard. It was a small, nervous gesture I hadn't seen from him before.

"Nothing, really... why?" I asked, biting my lip as I looked up at him, curious about where this was going.

"I was thinking—maybe we could hit up a movie or something. If you're into that." His eyes stayed fixed on the path ahead, like he wasn't interested in showing how much he cared about my answer. But his voice—it didn't waver, not like he was just throwing the idea out there casually. He was direct, but the way he added, "Only if you want to," made it clear he was giving me an out.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly. It wasn't what I'd expected from him. "I guess we could," I said, smiling up at him. The thought of seeing him outside of tutoring, outside of the library, felt... different, but not in a bad way.

He nodded, a small cocky smirk playing on his lips, the tough guy act slipping back into place, and we kept walking. The quiet between us was comfortable, but there was this new energy, something unspoken hanging in the air.

___

When we finally reached my dorm door, I looked up at him again, and for a moment, his eyes locked onto mine. Those dark, intense eyes of his—always so focused, so hard to read—made me pause. There was something about the way he looked at me, like he saw more than just his tutor, and it made my heart race a little faster.

"See you on Sunday?" I asked, knowing full well that I wouldn't see him tomorrow. After all, I had his schedule memorized by now.

"Yeah," he smirked again, the tough confidence settling back into his features as if the whole movie idea was just a casual plan.

I reached for the door handle, but before turning it, I hesitated for a second, my heart pounding in my chest as I made a quick, bold decision. Without overthinking it, I turned back toward him, stepped up on my tiptoes, and leaned in. My lips brushed against his cheek for a brief second—a quick, soft kiss that left warmth against my skin.

Before he could react or say anything, I quickly turned back around, opened the door, and slipped inside, shutting it behind me with a quiet thud.

Leaning back against the door, I let out a shaky breath, my mind racing. What was he thinking outside? Did that surprise him as much as it did me?

___

Owen

The fuck just happened.