First meet 🫶🏻🌸✨️

Hey cuties i know you are watching this scene in my illustration series but if you read this so you feel this moment and emotion more deeply and you again memorise thid scene 💖🤌🏻🎀✨️

She was still standing there, facing the empty wall.

Her fingers lightly brushed the edge of the frame, like she was trying to understand what had just been taken from her space.

A faint silence filled the gallery.

Behind her... he was already there.

Abeer stood a few steps away, watching her quietly.

His eyes didn't move from her even once. There was something strange in the way he looked at her-like he wasn't just seeing her for the first time... but recognising something he didn't even know he was searching for.

She slowly turned.

And the moment her eyes met his, everything paused.

Her expression stayed calm, but there was a sharp question in her gaze.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Abeer didn't react immediately. He just looked at her for a second longer... like he was memorising her face.

Then he casually shifted his stance, breaking the intensity of the moment.

"Nothing," he said finally, his voice calm and low.

"Just someone passing by."

A small pause followed.

"I was just leaving."

His eyes held hers for a brief second more... then he looked away, like it meant nothing.

But even as he turned slightly-

he didn't move from where he stood.

She kept looking at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, trying to understand why someone would be standing inside her gallery like that... so still, so confident, almost like he belonged there.

The silence between them stretched.

Abeer didn't look away. Not even once.

It was unsettling... the way he was watching her. Not disrespectful, not loud... just too focused, too deep, like he was trying to read something beyond her face.

Finally, she broke the silence again.

"You are not looking like someone who just passes by."

Her voice was calm, but firm. Clear.

Abeer's expression didn't change immediately. For a second, there was only quiet between them.

Then he slightly tilted his head, as if her words had actually reached him.

A faint, almost unreadable expression crossed his face.

He spoke slowly.

"Maybe today I did."

A small pause followed.

His eyes briefly shifted around the gallery, then came back to her.

"But you are also not looking like someone whose painting just gets sold and forgotten."

The air shifted slightly after he said that.

Not heavy... but different.

She didn't respond right away. Her gaze stayed on him, sharper now, more alert.

"Why are you here?" she asked finally.

Abeer took a slow breath, as if deciding what to say... and what not to.

Then he stepped slightly forward, just enough to close the distance between curiosity and tension.

"I don't know," he said honestly, voice still calm.

"And that's the problem."

His eyes held hers again.

For the first time, something unspoken flickered in his expression... like even he wasn't fully in control of why he was still standing there.

And she noticed it.

That he wasn't just answering her...

He was trying to understand himself too.

She folded her arms slowly, still watching him.

There was something about the way he stood there that made the whole gallery feel quieter. He wasn't saying much, but somehow it felt like he had already taken up all the space around her.

Her gaze stayed fixed on him.

"You still didn't tell me," she said, her tone steady, "why were you looking at my gallery like that?"

Abeer's eyes moved around the room for a brief moment, then came back to her face.

A faint shadow of a smile touched his lips.

"I wasn't looking at the gallery."

Her brows drew together slightly.

"Then what were you looking at?"

The question came quickly, almost before she could stop herself.

Abeer looked at her for a long second.

That same unreadable gaze. Deep. Still. Almost dangerous in how calm it was.

Then he answered, his voice low.

"Something I don't usually stop for."

The words stayed in the air.

She didn't understand immediately... or maybe she did, and that was exactly why her heartbeat shifted.

Her expression stayed composed, but her fingers tightened around her own arm.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Abeer didn't answer right away.

Instead, he walked a little closer to one of the paintings on the side wall, pretending to look at it, but even then his attention wasn't really there.

"It means," he said after a pause, "I don't waste time on things that don't matter."

He turned his face toward her again.

"But today I did."

The gallery suddenly felt too silent.

She tried not to react, but there was something unsettling in how directly he said things. No hesitation. No effort to impress. Just plain words... and somehow that made them heavier.

She stepped a little toward him.

"You bought that painting."

It wasn't a question.

Abeer looked at her, and for the first time there was the slightest pause in his expression.

Then he nodded once.

"Yes."

"Why?"

His jaw tightened just a little.

He looked at the empty wall, then back at her.

"I saw it."

She frowned. "That's not an answer."

His gaze stayed on her, unwavering.

"It was enough for me."

She stared at him.

People usually explained themselves. Gave reasons. Made conversations easy.

But he answered like every sentence had something hidden beneath it.

Her curiosity had already started growing, even if she didn't want to admit it.

She took another step, closer now.

"You came all the way here... just because of one painting?"

Abeer's eyes dropped to her face, noticing every small change in her expression.

Then he said quietly-

"No."

The word made her pause.

He looked at her for another moment before finishing.

"I came because after seeing it... I wanted to know who made something like that."

Her breath caught for a second.

The honesty in his voice wasn't soft. It was too direct.

And that made it harder to ignore.

She looked away first, trying to gather herself.

"People usually call before coming to meet someone."

Abeer's expression didn't shift.

"I'm not people."

The words came so naturally that it made her look back at him instantly.

For the first time, something in her expression changed-something between annoyance and disbelief.

"You always talk like this?"

Abeer looked at her for a second.

Then, very slightly, his mouth curved.

"Only when I don't feel like lying."

That answer stayed with her.

She didn't know why, but she couldn't just end the conversation and walk away anymore.

And Abeer knew that.

He could see it.

The way she kept standing there.

The way her eyes questioned him but didn't ask him to leave.

For someone like him, people usually either stepped back... or spoke too much.

She was doing neither.

And that was exactly why he still hadn't moved.

For a few moments, neither of them said anything.

The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It had changed into something neither of them could name, and maybe that was what made it harder to break.

Abeer finally looked away.

As if forcing himself to.

His jaw tightened slightly before he spoke.

"I should leave."

The words were simple, but his voice had gone quieter than before.

She looked at him for a second, then gave a small nod.

"Yes."

That was all she said.

No reason to stop him. No reason to ask anything else.

And yet, when he turned to leave, her eyes stayed on him a little longer than they should have.

Abeer walked toward the exit slowly.

His footsteps were calm, measured... but something inside him had already gone off balance.

He reached the glass door, his hand touching the handle.

Then he stopped.

For the first time in years, he found himself doing something he never did.

He turned back.

His gaze searched for her again without thinking.

And there she was.

Standing near the same wall, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, already trying to return to her work like nothing had happened.

But Abeer couldn't move.

He just stood there for a second, looking at her.

A strange heaviness settled in his chest.

He had met hundreds of people. Seen faces, conversations, names... none of them stayed.

But this-

This was different.

And he hated that he couldn't understand why.

His fingers tightened around the door handle.

Still, his eyes remained on her.

As if leaving wasn't as easy as it should have been.

Then he finally walked out.

But even after sitting in his car, even after the engine started-

his mind was still inside that gallery.

Still there.

Still looking at her.

Still replaying every word she had said.

He leaned back against the seat, staring ahead, but his thoughts were nowhere near the road.

He had never gone somewhere twice for something as meaningless as a painting.

And he definitely had never stood in one place just because someone's presence made leaving feel wrong.

His expression darkened slightly.

As if he was irritated... with himself.

Meanwhile inside the gallery-

Harshita picked up the brush from the table.

She tried focusing on the unfinished canvas in front of her.

She dipped the brush in color.

Stopped.

Her hand wasn't steady.

She frowned, placing the brush down again.

A weird restlessness had settled under her skin.

She didn't understand it.

It was just a stranger.

A man she had never seen before.

Then why was her heart still beating so fast?

Why was his voice repeating in her head?

She pressed her palm lightly against her chest, almost unconsciously.

Her heartbeat was too loud.

She looked toward the door where he had left.

Empty.

And yet it felt like the room still carried something of him.

She shook her head, forcing herself back to work.

But the color on the canvas blurred in front of her eyes.

Because no matter how much she tried-

something had shifted.

And she could feel it.

Even if she didn't know what.

So my candies 🍬 how's a chapter Did the memories of the episode come back na? 😉🥀

So don't forget to vote and comment I'll meet you in next chapter by by 💋💖✨️