Artistic Lover

The days stretched longer after Luna's warning about fading away. Ethan couldn't shake the fear that her presence—the one constant in his life that felt safe—might be slipping through his fingers. He clung to her company even more than before, hesitant to let her out of his sight.

But something had shifted.

Luna's laughter, once so bright and full, seemed quieter. Her form, always shimmering with an ethereal glow, appeared dimmer in certain lights. She still smiled, still encouraged him, but Ethan couldn't ignore the growing unease.

On a gray afternoon, as rain misted against his window, Ethan sat at his desk, pencil in hand. Luna perched on the edge of the bed, watching him silently.

"You haven't drawn anything all day," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of concern.

Ethan pressed the pencil harder against the page, the tip breaking under the pressure. He sighed and tossed it aside, running his hands through his hair. "I can't focus," he admitted. "It feels like... everything's falling apart."

Luna tilted her head, her expression a mix of sadness and patience. "What feels like it's falling apart?"

"You," Ethan said bluntly, his voice trembling. "You're disappearing. And I don't know how to stop it."

Luna's face softened, her gaze steady. She stood and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Ethan, I'm not disappearing. I'm just... stepping back."

"Stepping back?" Ethan repeated, his voice rising. "Why? I still need you."

Luna crouched beside him, her eyes level with his. "You don't need me the same way anymore. You're starting to find your own strength. That's why I'm fading."

Ethan's chest tightened. "That's not true," he said, shaking his head. "I'm still a mess. I don't know how to do this without you."

Luna smiled, her touch warm against his arm. "You've already started doing it. You're talking to Claire. You're thinking about the exhibit. You're stepping into the world, even if it's just a little at a time."

Ethan looked down at his hands, his mind racing. He hated how much sense her words made, even if he didn't want to hear them.

---

That evening, Ethan wandered outside alone for the first time in weeks. The river, their usual spot, was quiet and still. He sat on the grass, staring at the rippling water.

The silence was deafening without Luna beside him, and the weight of her absence felt like a stone in his chest.

Why does it have to be this way? he thought bitterly.

But as he sat there, he realized something—Luna had always been more than just a friend. She was a part of him, a voice that had pushed him to see the world differently. Even if she wasn't physically there, her influence remained.

Ethan pulled out his sketchbook and began to draw. His pencil moved almost of its own accord, the lines coming together to form an image of the river, the trees, and Luna sitting beside him, her expression soft and knowing.

When he finished, he stared at the drawing, a lump forming in his throat.

---

The next day at school, Ethan found himself walking past the library where he usually spent his lunch breaks. Instead, he made his way to the art classroom.

Claire was there, organizing a stack of papers near the supply closet. She looked up as he entered, her face lighting up with a smile.

"Hey, Ethan," she said, her tone warm.

"Hey," he replied, his voice steadier than he expected.

"What brings you here?" Claire asked, setting the papers down.

Ethan hesitated, then held up his sketchbook. "I was thinking... about what you said. About the exhibit."

Claire's eyes widened slightly, her excitement barely contained. "Really? Are you thinking of submitting something?"

"Maybe," Ethan said, his voice tentative. "I'm not sure yet, but... I want to at least try."

"That's amazing," Claire said, her smile genuine. "I can help you if you want. We can go through your sketches and pick a few pieces together."

Ethan nodded, feeling a small flicker of relief. "Yeah. That would be... nice."

As they sat together, flipping through his sketchbook, Ethan found himself relaxing in Claire's presence. She pointed out details in his drawings that even he hadn't noticed, her enthusiasm infectious.

"You've got such a unique style," she said, holding up one of his sketches. "It's like your art tells a story. People are going to love this."

Ethan felt his cheeks flush, but for once, the warmth was comforting rather than suffocating.

---

That evening, Luna appeared in his room as usual, but this time, there was a peacefulness about her that Ethan hadn't noticed before.

"How did it feel?" she asked, sitting beside him on the bed.

"How did what feel?"

"Talking to Claire. Sharing your art."

Ethan thought about it, the memory fresh in his mind. "It was... good," he admitted. "Scary, but good."

Luna smiled, her expression proud. "See? You're stronger than you think."

Ethan looked at her, his chest tightening. "Are you going to leave soon?"

Luna didn't answer immediately. She reached out and touched his hand, her gaze steady. "I'll always be with you, Ethan. Even if you can't see me."

For the first time, Ethan felt like he could believe her.

---

To Be Continued..