Tackling the Canvas

Chapter 5 [pt1]

Nora

I don't know what's happening to me. I had always told myself that boys were nothing but a distraction—especially the younger ones. They were a waste of time, and I was better off focusing on my art, my studies... but Owen? He's different. He's not just another guy. He's kind, funny, sweet, and, well—handsome.

I was mortified when he asked to see my drawing yesterday. Even though he seemed to really like it, I couldn't help but feel awkward. No one had ever paid that much attention to something I'd made, let alone complimented it like that. But today... today we had our little "not-date." It wasn't a date—it was just a night out at the cinema. Just two people watching a movie together. That's all.

Still, I found myself getting ready like it was more than that. I wanted to look... nice. I decided to style myself a bit more, and as I finished up, Oscar's voice sounded from my phone. Oscar, my childhood friend, the one person I'd always felt completely comfortable around. We'd grown up together in the same neighborhood, and though he lived all the way in Melbourne now—9014 miles away—his absence was always felt.

"That one looks amazing, he'll love it," Oscar said through the screen, his grin reaching his eyes. I smiled back, feeling slightly uncertain as I looked at myself in the mirror. "You sure? It's not... too much? Like, not too showy?" I asked, smoothing down the strapless black dress I'd chosen. It had an open back and fell just above my knees, far more elegant than my usual look.

"Totally. You look cute," he reassured me. Then, with a teasing smirk, he added, "So, is he your new boyfriend?"

I rolled my eyes at him, pulling my hair up into a messy bun. "Haha, very funny. You know I don't date, Oscar."

"There's always a first time for everything," he said with a chuckle, making me pause for a moment.

First time for everything? Maybe, but this wasn't that... was it?

___

I kept my head down, focusing on the soft fabric of my dress as I walked toward the parking lot, where Owen was waiting. The familiar feeling of nerves hit me as I twirled the edge of the dress between my fingers, wondering for the hundredth time if I'd overdressed for this. A flash of light caught my eye, making me glance up.

There he was, leaning against his truck, with a subtle smile tugging at his lips. His eyes swept over me, and I felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Maybe this dress was too much after all.

"You look nice," he muttered, standing up a little straighter.

I looked him over, noticing how well he cleaned up. He wore a cream Polo pullover layered over a black dress shirt, paired with taupe trousers that made him look effortlessly put-together. I bit my lower lip, a smile forming on my face.

"You don't look bad yourself, Cap," I teased, feeling some of the tension ease as I met his gaze.

The husky chuckle that followed my comment sent a flutter of butterflies through my stomach. There was something about the sound—deep, warm, and a little rough—that made my heart skip a beat.

"Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand toward me, his gaze soft but steady.

For a second, I hesitated. His hand hovered in the air, waiting. Finally, I placed mine in his, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. He gently guided me toward the truck, opening the door.

By the time we arrived, we were already late for the movie. Owen told me to wait inside the theater while he got snacks. I had reluctantly agreed to watch a horror movie—something I *definitely* wasn't into—but he seemed so excited that I couldn't say no.