She decided to leave a note under the lamppost before heading home, hoping it would lighten the mood.
“Dear Ethan,
I hope your day gets brighter. Maybe tomorrow, we can laugh again like we used to.
–Hannah”
The next morning, she found a reply waiting, but it was short, clipped:
“Dear Hannah,
I’m fine. Just… busy. Don’t worry about me.
–Ethan”
Hannah frowned, misreading the tone. Busy… don’t worry… he’s upset with me?
That evening, she approached him cautiously, heart racing.“Ethan, is everything okay?”
He looked up, surprised.“What? Oh… yes, I’m fine. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”
She bit her lip, unsure whether to press.“Your note… I thought…”
He laughed softly, shaking his head.“No, Hannah. I’m not upset. Promise. I just… I’m not used to all this attention. Letters, sketches… you. It’s… nice, but also a little overwhelming.”
Hannah felt relief wash over her, mixed with a flutter of something warmer.“I’m glad it’s nice.”
He smiled, and for a moment, the distance melted.“It is. More than I expected. You’ve got a way of sneaking into my thoughts, you know that?”
Her cheeks warmed, but she laughed softly.“Good or bad?”
“Definitely good,” he said, a spark in his eyes.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the misunderstanding faded, replaced by the thrilling awareness that their connection was growing stronger—messy, complicated, and entirely theirs. And both knew that their slow-burn story was just beginning to catch fire.
Chapter 8:
Moonlit Secrets
The boardwalk was quiet that evening, the ocean waves whispering secrets to the shore. Hannah had stayed late to sketch the sunset fading into twilight when she heard footsteps behind her.
“Thought I might find you here,” Ethan said, leaning against the railing.
“Wasn’t hiding,” she teased, turning to him with a smile.
He shrugged playfully.“Sure doesn’t feel like it.”
They walked along the edge of the boardwalk, the moon rising over the horizon, casting silver light across the water. Ethan’s presence was comforting, yet thrilling—like standing on the edge of something exciting, unsure if you’d fall.
Hannah pulled her sketchbook from her bag.“I wanted to capture tonight,” she said, flipping to a blank page.
Ethan peered over her shoulder.“May I?”
She nodded, and he sat beside her, leaning close enough that their shoulders touched. Watching the moonlight play across the pages, he added a few quick sketches of his own—simple lines, a kite in the night sky, a faint silhouette of the lighthouse.
“You’re good at this,” Hannah said softly, watching his fingers move with careful precision.
“Not as good as you,” he replied.“I’m just… trying to see the world through your eyes.”
