Lina's stylus moved in quick, practiced flicks across the screen, her expression focused, brows slightly furrowed.
She was refining a rooftop ledge, adding shadows and light. The world around her had faded.
Except for Alex.
He sat beside her, posture relaxed but eyes very much not. His coffee sat untouched, hands loosely clasped between his knees.
He wasn't watching the screen — he was watching her. The way her lips curled ever so slightly when she liked a line. The way her thumb rubbed against the side of her tablet like muscle memory.
She glanced up, maybe sensing it. Their eyes met.
Lina didn't smile — not right away.
Neither did Alex.
It was the kind of look that held something suspended — something old, something unspoken. A thread stretched too long.
Alex cleared his throat gently. "You're still amazing at that," he said, voice low. "Every time, it just… surprises me."
