Chapter 4: something about the light

I wasn’t sure why my heart beat faster when she said yes. It was just a project — a simple set of photos for my art class. That’s what I kept telling myself.

We met by the pier that Sunday, where the wind smelled like salt and sunlight, and the world looked soft around the edges. Layla was already there, sitting on the railing with her camera in her lap, hair swaying in the breeze.

She looked up when she saw me. “You’re late.”

“Traffic,” I said, even though there wasn’t any. Truth was, I’d changed my shirt twice before leaving.

She laughed. “You’re impossible.”

I smiled, taking my sketchbook out of my bag. “You’re the one who agreed to help.”

For the next hour, we just walked. She took photos; I made sketches. It should’ve been quiet work — focused, artistic — but somehow every small thing she did distracted me. The way she squinted into the light. The way her fingers brushed her hair aside.

When she turned the camera toward me, my heart stuttered.

“Smile, artist boy,” she said.

“Not fair,” I murmured.

“Life rarely is.” Click.

The shutter sounded again, and I wondered if she could see what I was trying so hard to hide — that being near her felt like standing too close to the sun.

We sat down later, side by side on the sand. She was showing me her photos, laughing at her own bad angles. I didn’t hear half of what she said. I was too focused on the sound of her voice, the way it mixed with the ocean.

I wanted to tell her she was beautiful — not in the easy, practiced way people say it, but in that quiet, rare kind of beautiful that sneaks up on you and stays.

Instead, I said, “You’re really good at this.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “You see things other people miss.”

Her eyes met mine, and for a second, I forgot where we were.

⸻

Layla

When Ethan smiled at me today, I almost dropped my camera. It was that kind of smile — the soft one that feels like a secret.

The pier was busy — families, music, wind in our faces — but somehow, when we talked, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

I hadn’t seen him this focused before. He’d sit, sketch, then glance up at me like I was part of the scenery he couldn’t stop studying.

“What?” I asked once, laughing.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, looking down at his sketchbook. “Just thinking.”

About what, I wanted to ask. But I didn’t. I was scared I already knew.

We stayed until the sun started to fall. He offered me his hoodie when the breeze turned cool, and I took it — pretending it was just for warmth. But the truth? It smelled like him. Safe, familiar, and a little dangerous.

When he dropped me off that evening, the air between us felt charged.

“Thanks for today,” I said quietly.

He smiled, hands in his pockets. “Yeah. Anytime.”

And as he walked away, I looked at the fading sun and thought, maybe this isn’t just a crush anymore.

Maybe it’s something we’re both too afraid to name.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***