He didn’t notice her. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t look. She wasn’t sure.
For the first time in months, she hesitated approaching her own bench. She almost turned back — almost. But something about the way he sat, quiet and thoughtful, made her stay rooted a moment longer.
Then, as if sensing her presence, he turned.
Warm hazel eyes met hers.
He blinked, surprised, then immediately stood up slightly straighter.
“Oh—sorry,” he said quickly, brushing his hair back.“Is this seat taken?”
Lily swallowed her nerves.“No… it’s fine. I usually sit here, but—um—you’re welcome to stay.”
He smiled — a soft, almost apologetic curve of his lips.
“Then maybe we can share it?” he asked, stepping aside to make even more room.
Lily nodded shyly and sat at the left end, smoothing out her skirt before opening her sketchbook. Her hands felt just a bit too aware. She tried to focus on her drawing, but she could feel him there — not in a loud way, but in that unmistakable way someone interesting fills space just by existing.
The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It felt… curious.
After a few minutes, he spoke again, gentle and unhurried.
“I see you draw here often.”
Lily blinked.“You’ve seen me before?”
“Only yesterday,” he admitted with a sheepish grin.“I was walking by, and you looked… peaceful. Like the river was telling you secrets.”
Lily’s cheeks flushed softly.“It’s just my routine.”
“It’s a beautiful one,” he said sincerely.
She looked at him properly this time — the steady eyes, the relaxed posture, the camera resting against his chest like itbelonged there. He looked like someone who paid attention to small things.
She liked small things too.
“I’m Lily,” she managed, her voice gentle but steady.
“Evan,” he replied, offering a small nod.“Evan Blake.”
The names hung between them like the start of something neither expected.
For a while, they simply sat — she sketching, he watching the water through his lens. He didn’t comment on her drawing, didn’t try to peek, didn’t intrude. Instead, he let the quiet settle naturally, as if he understood that her silence wasn’t emptiness but comfort.
At some point, their elbows brushed lightly — an accidental touch. Both of them froze for half a second before pretending to be completely normal humans again.
The sky stretched itself into pinks and golds as the river caught the colors and rolled them gently along. A quiet kind of magic filled the space.
Finally, as the light began to dim, Evan stood, lifting his camera.
“Maybe I’ll see you again?” he asked, almost hopeful.
Lily looked up at him, surprised by how much she already wished the same.
“I’m usually here around this time,” she admitted.
He smiled — this time, a little brighter.
