Love's Canva
r, and we'd have an absolute blast. "I'm sorry, I rambled on too much. You didn't ask for all that," I realised, feeling a
ring on his cheeks. "It's getting late, and I need to clos
feet, trying to conceal my blushing cheeks and giddy smile. Dimitri guides m
. The streets are deserted, and I realise I have lost track of time. I
rtment. As we stroll, our conversation flows endlessly, touching on various topics. We start with the basics, like our origins and professio
" I say, and his smile widens. "W
. If something or someone strikes me as beautiful, it inspires me.
od, now feeling a bit fooli
one posing all the questions throughout the night. "How did you become so knowledgeable about art?" I smile, kno
or paint then?
nt of my father. I envied those classmates who effortlessly sketched impressive drawings on their papers. After a few more minutes of walking and talking, we arrive at my apartment
o do. "I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Calliope. I hope we me
l as I ascend the steps and reach the door. "Goodbye, Calliope." His voice reaches me as the
ll takes my breath away whenever I glance at him or gaze upon him for a moment too long. Although we didn't exchange numbers, deep down, I have a feel
/0/97743/coverorgin.jpg?v=b39caac1815018b4389eb67c9454b17c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85678/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a207a63cd0a42212d96a5e751493e4f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/92811/coverorgin.jpg?v=e6a58467c814dabe499538a9b77737c3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/98410/coverorgin.jpg?v=b69d91f057557990792a239fc4c120e3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80645/coverorgin.jpg?v=410173822b60b72d457ff2ae22a4274b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/87511/coverorgin.jpg?v=2e775422334f670e69f6c64b54372b11&imageMogr2/format/webp)