Artistic Lover

The days after the art exhibit felt like the dawn of a new chapter in Ethan's life. For the first time in years, he wasn't just existing—he was living. The overwhelming fear of being judged had dulled, replaced by the quiet thrill of knowing that people had connected with his art.

His sketches, once hidden away in the confines of his room, had sparked conversations, compliments, and even a few inquiries about future projects. But what mattered most to Ethan wasn't the recognition—it was the realization that his voice, through his art, could reach people in ways he'd never imagined.

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One crisp autumn morning, Ethan found himself sitting on the same grassy hill by the river where he and Luna had spent so many afternoons. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting golden patterns on the ground. His sketchbook rested on his lap, and beside him sat Claire, her auburn hair glowing in the sunlight.

"Do you ever think about the stories behind your sketches?" Claire asked, lying back on the grass and gazing up at the sky.

Ethan glanced at her, smiling softly. "All the time. Every drawing has a story, even if it's just one I made up while working on it."

Claire turned her head to look at him, her eyes thoughtful. "And the girl—the one in your exhibit. What's her story?"

Ethan hesitated, his pencil hovering over the page. Luna's image was still vivid in his mind, her laughter, her encouragement, her unwavering belief in him.

"She's... someone who showed me how to see the world differently," he said finally. "She helped me believe in myself when I couldn't."

Claire's expression softened, and she reached out to touch his hand lightly. "She sounds like someone really special."

"She was," Ethan said, his voice quiet but steady. "And she'll always be a part of me."

---

That evening, Ethan returned home feeling a peaceful sort of melancholy. The house was quiet, his parents out for the evening. As he climbed the stairs to his room, he felt a strange sense of anticipation, as though something was waiting for him.

When he opened the door, his breath caught.

Luna was there, standing by his desk. Her dress shimmered faintly, her hair catching the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. She turned to him with a smile, one that was both familiar and bittersweet.

"Hey," she said, her voice warm.

Ethan blinked, unable to believe his eyes. "Luna... I thought..."

"You thought I was gone," she finished gently. "And I am, in a way. But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye."

Ethan's chest tightened, a mix of relief and sadness washing over him. "I'm not ready to say goodbye," he admitted, his voice breaking.

Luna stepped closer, her gaze steady. "You don't need me the way you used to, Ethan. You've grown so much. You're stronger than you think, and you're not alone anymore."

Tears welled in his eyes, and he looked down at the floor. "I'm scared," he whispered. "Scared that without you, I'll go back to being the person I was before."

Luna reached out, her touch warm and grounding. "You won't," she said firmly. "Because the person you were before wasn't weak—he just didn't know how strong he could be. And now, you do."

Ethan looked up at her, his vision blurred with tears. "You've been with me through everything. How do I let you go?"

Luna smiled softly, her own eyes shimmering. "By remembering that I'm always here." She placed a hand over his heart. "Every step you take, every connection you make—that's me, too. You don't lose the people who help you grow, Ethan. They become a part of who you are."

The lump in Ethan's throat made it hard to speak, but he managed a nod.

"Will I ever see you again?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Luna's smile widened, radiant and full of love. "You'll see me every time you look at your art, every time you find the courage to try something new. I'm in all of that."

She began to step back, her form shimmering faintly as though she were dissolving into the air.

"Luna—"

"I'm proud of you, Ethan," she said, her voice echoing softly. "Don't ever forget that."

And with that, she was gone.

---

Ethan stood there for a long moment, the room feeling both emptier and fuller at the same time. He walked over to his desk and sat down, his hands trembling slightly as he opened his sketchbook.

This time, he didn't hesitate. His pencil moved with confidence, capturing the image of Luna as she had just stood before him—radiant, strong, and full of the quiet wisdom that had guided him through his darkest moments.

When he finished, he looked at the drawing and smiled through his tears. "Thank you," he whispered.

---

The following weeks brought more changes than Ethan could have imagined. He started spending more time with Claire, their bond growing stronger with every shared conversation and moment of laughter. For the first time in years, Ethan didn't feel like he was hiding from the world.

At school, people approached him about his sketches, their compliments genuine and encouraging. He even began to consider submitting his work to other exhibits, a thought that would have terrified him not long ago.

But no matter how much his life changed, Ethan knew that Luna's influence would always be with him.

One evening, as he sat by the river with Claire, sketchbook in hand, she asked, "What are you drawing now?"

Ethan smiled, holding up the page. It was a sketch of two figures—a boy and a girl standing side by side, their faces turned toward the horizon. Above them, the stars shimmered brightly, the field of possibilities stretching endlessly before them.

"It's a story about beginnings," he said.

Claire leaned closer, her head resting on his shoulder. "I like that," she said softly.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, Ethan felt something he hadn't in a long time—peace, and the quiet certainty that he was exactly where he needed to be.

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Thank you for reading this, Ethan's story..

The End.