Chapter 19
395 Words
Elena pov:
She didn’t mean to open it.
She’d stared at the sketchbook all morning, as she watched the light move across it, watched the way it sat there like it belonged to her now.
But it didn’t..
Nothing here did.
Still, her fingers moved before her thoughts caught up.
One touch.
Then another.
Soft. Cautious.
Like it might bite.
She opened the cover like it was a secret.
Because, in a way, it was.
And the first page hit her harder than she expected.
It wasn’t of her.
Not yet.
It was a hand.
His hand.
Rough lines. Scars. A fading tattoo near the wrist.
It looked like it belonged to a stranger. And yet… she knew it was his.
He’d drawn it like he hated it. Or maybe like he was trying not to.
---
She turned the page.
And then another.
Faces. Pieces of them. Not full, not clean—just fragments.
A mouth half-smiling.
A shoulder hunched.
Eyes that didn’t look at the viewer, but away. Always away.
And then, finally,
her.
Not posed. Not perfect. Not even recent.
It was her from before. From the day she arrived.
Wrapped in fear.
But her face—he hadn’t drawn it scared.
He’d drawn it soft.
And that’s what shattered her.
Because that version of her didn’t exist anymore.
She didn’t feel soft.
She didn’t feel like someone worth drawing.
And yet… he saw her.
Even when she didn’t want to be seen.
Even when she hated him for looking.
---
She closed the sketchbook gently.
Not like she was done with it.
Like it hurt.
Her fingers lingered on the cover.
Like maybe, if she touched it long enough, she’d understand what it meant.
What he meant.
What any of this meant.
---
She stood up without realizing she’d made the decision.
Left the room. Walked barefoot down the hall like a ghost.
No plan.
No words.
Just something heavy in her chest that needed air.
And without thinking, she found herself standing outside his office door.
Hand lifted. Fist curled.
Not knocking.
Just… hesitating.
Because if she walked in there, if she looked him in the eyes....
She wasn’t sure what would come out of her mouth.
And she didn’t want to cry.
She just wanted to understand why he’d drawn her like that.
Like she was still worth something.....
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