Chapter 9 – A Different Kind of Familiar
1045 Words
Mira had always believed that people were easiest to understand from a distance.
From far away, everyone seemed simple.
A person could be the funny one, the serious one, the confident one, or the quiet one.
But the closer you got, the more complicated they became.
That was why Mira preferred keeping her distance.
It was easier.
Less expectations.
Less disappointment.
So when Ethan started becoming someone she saw almost every day, she found it slightly inconvenient.
Not because he had done anything wrong.
Actually, that was the problem.
He was too easy to talk to.
Too comfortable.
And Mira wasn't used to that.
---
The Fine Art studio was unusually quiet that morning.
Most students were already working on their projects, their brushes moving across canvases while soft conversations filled the room.
Mira sat at her usual table, carefully adding details to her painting.
Their last project, "A Story Without Words," had been submitted, but Professor Daniels had already given them another assignment.
A portrait.
Not just any portrait.
A portrait of their partner.
Mira still wasn't sure how she felt about it.
Painting someone meant paying attention.
It meant noticing things people usually ignored.
And Ethan was not exactly the easiest person to paint.
He moved too much.
He talked too much.
And he had a habit of distracting her whenever she tried to concentrate.
"You're making that serious face again."
Mira looked up.
Ethan was sitting across from her, holding his pencil.
"What serious face?"
"The one you make when you're thinking too hard."
"I don't have a serious face."
"You do."
She returned her attention to her canvas.
"Maybe you should focus on your own work instead of watching me."
"I am focused."
"You're looking at me."
"Exactly. I'm studying my subject."
Mira sighed.
"You're annoying."
"I hear that a lot."
"I wonder why."
He smiled.
Unlike some people she had met, Ethan never seemed offended by her comments.
Most people misunderstood her quietness.
They thought she was rude.
Cold.
Uninterested.
But Ethan didn't seem bothered.
He just accepted it.
And that was something Mira still found strange.
---
"Don't move."
Ethan raised his eyebrows.
"Again?"
"Yes. You're my subject."
"Do I get a break?"
"No."
"That's unfair."
"Life is unfair."
He laughed.
Mira tried not to smile.
Not because she disliked him.
She just didn't want him thinking she found him funny.
That would only encourage him.
"You know," Ethan said, "you're different from how people describe you."
Mira paused.
"What do people describe me as?"
He thought for a moment.
"Quiet."
"That's accurate."
"Serious."
"Also accurate."
"Hard to approach."
She looked at him.
"And what do you think?"
Ethan shrugged.
"I think people decide things too quickly."
Mira didn't answer.
She wasn't sure why that statement stayed in her mind.
Maybe because she knew what it felt like to be judged without being understood.
---
During lunch break, Mira sat outside the studio with her sketchbook.
She liked eating there because it was usually peaceful.
A group of students walked past, laughing loudly.
One of them waved at Ethan when he came outside.
"Hey, Ethan!"
He waved back.
Mira noticed something.
Ethan knew almost everyone.
Not deeply.
But enough that people smiled when they saw him.
"You're popular," she said.
He sat beside her.
"Am I?"
"Everyone knows you."
He shrugged.
"Knowing someone's name doesn't mean you know them."
The answer surprised her.
She looked at him.
For someone who always seemed cheerful, he sometimes said things that sounded much older than him.
"That's a strange thing to say."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you seem like someone who likes being around people."
"I do."
"Then why say that?"
He looked down at his hands.
"Because sometimes being around people doesn't mean you aren't alone."
Mira became quiet.
She didn't know what to say.
So instead, she opened her sketchbook.
"Can I see your drawings?"
Ethan looked relieved by the change of topic.
"Mine?"
"Yes."
"You might regret asking."
She gave him a look.
"Just show me."
He handed her his sketchbook.
Mira flipped through it carefully.
Unlike his personality, his drawings were surprisingly calm.
There were buildings.
Trees.
Random people he had seen around campus.
She stopped at one page.
It was a drawing of an old man sitting on a bench.
"You drew this?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Ethan looked at the page.
"I saw him every day outside a shop near my house."
"And?"
"And one day he wasn't there anymore."
Mira looked at him.
"So you drew him?"
He nodded.
"I didn't want to forget his face."
For a moment, she didn't know what to say.
She closed the sketchbook and handed it back.
"Your drawings are good."
His eyes widened.
"Was that a compliment?"
"Don't get used to it."
He laughed.
"Too late."
---
After classes ended, Mira stayed back to organize her materials.
She had lost track of time.
When she finally looked outside, the sun was already setting.
She packed her things quickly.
"You always stay late."
She turned.
Ethan was leaning against the doorway.
"Do you always appear randomly?"
"Maybe."
"That's strange."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't."
He smiled.
"Do you need help carrying those?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
He started walking away.
Mira blinked.
She expected him to argue.
Instead, he actually left.
For some reason, that surprised her.
A few seconds later, he turned back.
"But if you drop everything, I won't say I told you so."
She rolled her eyes.
"Goodbye, Ethan."
"Goodbye, Mira."
---
That night, Mira sat at her desk working on her sketches.
Her phone buzzed.
A message.
Ethan: Did you remember to eat dinner?
She stared at the screen.
How did he even know she forgot things like that?
She typed a reply.
Mira: Yes.
A few seconds passed.
Ethan: You're lying.
She frowned.
Mira: How do you know?
Ethan: Because you answered too quickly.
Mira looked at the message.
Then sighed.
Mira: I'll eat something.
Ethan: Good.
She placed her phone down.
It was nothing.
Just a normal conversation between classmates.
That was all.
Ethan was simply becoming a familiar face.
A friend, maybe.
Nothing more.
And Mira was perfectly okay with that.
At least, that was what she believed.
- Writer
