SCARRED HEART

The late afternoon sun spilled golden light across the open field, casting long shadows on the wild grass. I stood still, gazing softly on the horizon, where the trees blended into warm skies. A light breeze blowing strands of my hair, making them dance gently across my cheeks. Behind an easel set up a few feet away, Drew worked intently, brush moving steadily over the canvas.

"How am I doing?" I asked.

"You're doing great," he called out, squinting slightly as he mixed paint on his palette.

"I better be," I replied with a small laugh.

"You've had me standing here like a tree for almost an hour. My feet are going numb."

He grinned without looking up. "Well, you look like art right now, so it's worth it."

I rolled my eyes playfully but held my pose. Truth is, I didn't mind being Drew's subject. The calmness of the field, the quiet focus of his work, and the sense of being a part of something beautiful felt oddly comforting. It wasn't every day someone painted me, after all.

I waited a bit before I spoke up, "you brought food right? Perché muoio di fame." (Because I'm dying of hunger.)

"Hai sempre fame." (You're always hungry.) He replied.

I gasped in bewilderment, "no I'm not!"

"Sì, sei tu." ( Yes, you are.) He dropped a deadpan look my way.

"Mangi decisamente troppo per essere una Signora." (You eat way too much for a lady."

I made a 'hmph' sound giving a defiant look in response. I threw myself back on the grass, trying to annoy him. I broke out in a song,

"Ho fame, ho fame, ho faaameee, ho fame, ho fame, hoo faaamee." (I'm hungry.)

"Alright," he said with a laugh.

"Done for now. Let's go eat and go home. We can't keep the lady hungry." He said and started packing up his things.

"Yay!" I cheered happily and got up to assist him with it. He covered the painting he was working on with a plastic wrap and put it in the back seat of the car.

We drove into town and stopped by a cozy restaurant tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. The scent of freshly baked bread greeted us at the door.

"Smells like heaven," I muttered, already scanning the menu before we sat.

We ordered pasta and iced teas, then sat across from each other, the air between us warm with familiarity. I twirled my fork through the pasta, taking the first bite eagerly.

"I love you, do you know that?" I said to him with food in my mouth.

"Yeah, because I'm feeding you right now." He said, eating his meal.

I threw him a meaningful look and replied, "I can't really argue that."

"So," Drew said, "Are you always this good at standing still, or is it just for me?"

I chuckled, "only for artists with charming smiles."

He raised an eyebrow, "so I'm charming now?"

"Don't push your luck," she replied, smirking.

We talked about random things - old movies, the weather, art exhibitions that Drew had attended. For a moment, the world felt slowed down and simple. No rush, no pressure, just us, the food, and the soft hum of conversation around us.

After dinner, Drew dropped me off at the apartment I shared with Amber. I thanked him with a quick wave and a smile before heading up the stairs.

As I stepped into the apartment, the first thing I heard was Amber's voice - sharp, tense, and hurried.

"No, I told you-listen, I don't care anymore, okay?" Amber was pacing near the couch, phone pressed to her ear.

I paused, surprised by the tone. Amber hasn't noticed me yet.

"I'm done talking about this." Amber said, turning abruptly. Her eyes met mine. In a flash, her voice softened. "I'll call you back."

She ended the call quickly, slipping the phone into her pocket.

I raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

Amber forced a small smile. "Yeah. Just... drama. You know how it is."

"Drama with who?"

"Doesn't matter," Amber said, waving it off. Her expression, however, didn't match her words. Her eyes looked tired, lips pressed together tightly.

I stepped closer. "Amber, talk to me. What's going on?"

Amber shook her head. "Nothing worth discussing. Really. I'm fine."

Before I could press further, Amber changed the subject. "Anyway, how did your day go? Have you finished working on the assignment you had?

"Yeah, but I'm still waiting for it to be graded so I can know how well I did it."

We eased into conversation, Amber slowly relaxing as she listened to me retelling of how my day went - the field, the painting, the food. Amber shared a bit about her own day, carefully avoiding any mention of the earlier phone call.

As they curled up on the couch, Amber looked over and said, "We should do something tomorrow. Just us girls. You know, unwind."

I smiled. "I'd love that."

*****************

The next afternoon, I and Amber went to a popular hangout spot in the city - a blend of café and lounge, buzzing with people. Laughter echoed from tables, and the scent of coffee lingered in the air. As we settled into a spot near the window, a familiar voice called out.

"Megan?"

I turned and saw a tall figure approaching. It was Harry. He looked different, he had his curly hair pulled back in a bun, making him look more manly.

"Harry!" I stood, surprised. "Wow,"

"We've been coming across each other more frequent, I think we're meant to be. Don't you think so?" He smiled at me. We exchanged a brief hug.

"Uh, no, I most definitely do not think so." I answered firmly.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

"Meeting some friends. Looks like we found more."

Amber waved politely from the table, and Harry introduced himself. We chatted for a bit before he left to go meet his friends.

Later, I excused myself to the restroom. On my way back, I almost bumped into someone exiting the men's room.

"Careful," the person said, catching my arm lightly.

I looked up - it was Harry again.

"Wow, again," he laughed.

"Guess fate's playing tricks," I replied with a grin.

Harry reached into his pocket and brought out his phone, saying,"We should catch up sometime. Here, let's exchange numbers."

I handed him my phone, and he typed in his contact.

"Talk soon?" he said.

"Hmmm, I'll think about it."

As I walked back to my table, I felt Amber's curious eyes on me.

"Well?" Amber asked, sipping her drink.

I slid into my seat with a smile. "Looks like today brought a little extra surprise."

Amber smirked. "I saw that. You're totally texting him tonight."

I just laughed, looking out the window as the sun dipped lower, thinking maybe just maybe the universe knew exactly what it was doing.