her. (milklove) {ENG}

Chapter 3

• • ♥ • •

Melody sat in her studio, perched on a stool at her cluttered work table. The surface was covered in smudges of dried paint, splatters of ink, and scattered brushes, but she didn't mind. This was her sanctuary, her safe space.

She rummaged through a drawer and pulled out her watercolors—the ones she hadn't touched in ages but could never forget. In the corner of the room, an unfinished painting rested on an easel, waiting for her attention. But Melody's mind was elsewhere, focused on a different task.

Her thoughts drifted back to the day she formally introduced herself to Nova. They hadn't seen each other since, but Nova's reaction to Melody's sketch of the penalty kick had stayed with her. The way Nova had looked at her drawing—equal parts awe and appreciation—was etched in Melody's memory.

That reaction alone justified what she needed to do next.

Melody glanced down at the sketch she'd made that night and smiled to herself. Picking up a paintbrush, she dipped it into her watercolors and began bringing the drawing to life with color. Each stroke was precise yet full of emotion, and it didn't take her long to complete the piece.

When it was done, Melody stepped back to admire her work, her heart swelling with pride. She placed the painting aside to dry, her excitement bubbling over. Art had the power to bring happiness, and she couldn't wait to share it with Nova.

Still, doubts crept into her mind. What would Nova's reaction be? Would she be happy? Awkward? Would she even accept it?

Melody shook her head, brushing the worries aside. It wasn't worth overthinking. This wasn't about expectations; it was simply a gesture—a thank-you. A way to show her appreciation for how Nova treated her, for seeing her as a person first, without judgment or pity for her inability to speak.

Melody smiled again, this time with quiet determination. She would give Nova the painting, and whatever happened next, she knew it was worth it.

• • ♥ • •

Melody left her studio, the newly finished and colored painting carefully tucked away in her bag. She stepped outside, the hot, sticky air brushing against her skin, and began her journey to her upcoming appointment. Needing to use public transportation, the trip took about 20 minutes to get there. Thankfully, she had brought her headphones, allowing her to escape into her music and drown out the hum of the city around her.

"Miss Pattranite," Mrs. Araya greeted with a professional smile as Melody entered the doctor's lobby. Melody nodded in response, returning the smile faintly.

"Shall we?" Mrs. Araya gestured toward the door leading to her office. Without a word, Melody followed her therapist into the familiar room, ready for the session ahead.

Melody settled into the familiar sofa, waiting for her therapist to begin the session.

"How have you been lately?" Mrs. Araya asked, her tone calm and inviting.

Melody smiled and began signing. "Actually, I've been doing well. I've been keeping myself busy with art and spending time with friends. I even went to watch my friend's soccer practice, even though I didn't want to go at first. But her girlfriend invited me, so I went—and it ended up being fun." Her hands moved gracefully as she explained, while her therapist listened attentively.

"I haven't had a nightmare for... I think five days now. It feels..." Melody hesitated, searching for the right word.

"Liberating?" her therapist offered.