The painter's brush

Alone, again

**Max's POV**

I’ve been with Alex for a long time now, and it just hit me—he really reminds me of a 7-year-old Fey. The way he talks, his gestures, that smile, and especially the way he looks at his paintings—there’s the same sparkle in his eyes. It’s funny, though, because I’m not trying to compare Alex to Fey. Fey and I were friends, and if we ever cross paths again, I imagine we’ll still be friends.

But with Alex... it’s different. I want to be with him, for as long as I can. I care about him. A lot more than I think I even realised until now.

"Hey, are you alright? Kanina ka pa tulala dyan," Alex’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. We were in the studio, Alex busy with his usual painting, and I was just sitting there, watching him.

I smiled, trying to shake off the deep thoughts. "I’m alright, just some random things on my mind." I paused for a moment before adding, "I can’t believe we’ll be graduating soon."

Alex stopped painting and turned to look at me, his eyes curious but warm, as if sensing the weight of what I wasn’t saying.

"Wee? Baka nagka-flashback ka na naman sa friend mo na iniwan ka," Alex teased, wiping his hands with a towel and setting down his brush and palette on the chair.

I shook my head with a smile. "You two would get along, though," I replied, a hint of amusement in my voice.

He walked over, crossing his arms and giving me a playful glare, as if interrogating me. "And what do you mean by that?" he asked, curiosity evident.

"You both have the same love for painting," I said honestly, reaching out to pull him into a hug.

"Hmm, okay. Pero sino mas magaling sa amin?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

I chuckled, hiding my face in his neck. "Well, he was young back then. I'm not sure if he pursued it like you did."

He just giggled in response, making me smile even more.

"But speaking of paintings, why do you always paint that boy?" I asked, attempting to sound a little jealous as I pointed to the artwork he had just completed after stepping out of our embrace.

Alex exhaled heavily, his expression clouded with a mix of sadness and nostalgia as he looked at the painting. "I promised I’d never forget him. I'm scared that if I stop, my memories of him will fade too," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind, pulling him close. "You really loved him, didn’t you?" I asked, with a trace of bitterness lingering in my tone.

"I did, really," he admitted softly. "But someone else has taken his place." Slowly, he turned to face me.

My eyes sparkled with curiosity and hope, searching his face. He smiled tenderly, brushing his hand gently against my cheek.

Without a word, I knew. His eyes said it all—clear, warm, and full of meaning. I didn’t need to ask. Alex loves me.

I took his hand, kissing it tenderly. From his knuckles to his palm, then trailing my lips to his cheeks, his eyes, his nose, and finally, his lips. I wanted him to feel how deeply I returned that love, to know that I understood and feel the same way.

....

**Alex's POV**

"Love, wake up. Kailangan na nating pumasok," I gently called out to Max, softly shaking him while he lay in bed. I had already finished showering and preparing our things, but cooking... well, that might end up with his condo burning down.

"Uhmm..." Max groaned, shaking his head in his sleep.

"Maximillian Kim, if you don’t get up, I’m leaving you here!" I playfully threatened, and just like that, he shot up from the bed.