The night air feels even cooler as Thaddeus leads me deeper into the small, cozy room. The glow of neon lights casts a soft, warm hue on the vintage posters, and I can’t help but be drawn to the unique charm of the space. It’s not what I expected, but it’s… perfect in its own way. It feels like Thaddeus in a lot of ways—untamed, raw, and full of surprises. He notices me taking it all in and leans back against the bar, watching me with that easy confidence. “This place,” he says, gesturing around at the room, “it’s where I can just exist. No noise, no bullshit. It’s just… me.” I glance around again, feeling the energy he’s talking about. “I get it. It’s beautiful. It’s like… it has its own kind of soul.” His eyes light up at my words, and I feel a spark of something between us, like he’s opening up in a way that’s unexpected. “Exactly. It’s more than just a room. It’s a place where I can breathe, you know? Where I can think without everything else crowding in.” I nod, catching his gaze. “I think I can understand that.” The air around us shifts, and for a moment, it’s just the two of us—lost in the quiet of the space, and in each other’s company. It feels like the kind of conversation I could have with him for hours. But then, as if he’s just now realizing how close we’ve gotten, he steps forward, his hand brushing mine by accident. The touch is brief, but my skin tingles where his fingers grazed, and I feel a rush of heat flood my cheeks. Thaddeus doesn’t seem to notice the effect he’s having on me, though. He’s too caught up in the atmosphere of the room. “You should see the roof,” he says casually, his tone shifting back to that comfortable, relaxed one. “It’s got the best view. The kind of view where everything just fades away. You can’t help but feel something when you’re up there.” I glance at him, watching the passion in his eyes as he talks about the space. “Sounds amazing,” I say softly, my voice quieter than before. “I’d love to see it.” Without thinking, I step closer to him, following his lead as he walks toward the narrow staircase that leads up. But halfway up, my foot catches on a loose step, and I stumble slightly, my balance faltering. Before I can even react, Thaddeus is right there, his hands steadying me, one hand gripping my arm gently while the other slides behind me, guiding me carefully. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low and focused, a touch of concern in his eyes that I didn’t expect. I nod, my heart beating a little faster than it should be, and I feel the heat of his hand against my skin. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” He helps me regain my footing, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary. His fingers brush against my hand, the contact warm and light, but it sends a ripple of electricity through me. As we reach the top, I take a moment to steady myself, my heart racing. Thaddeus seems oblivious to the effect he’s having on me, but when he looks at me again, there’s something almost softer in his gaze, like he’s seeing me in a new way. But before I can make sense of it, he steps closer, a little too close. His hand moves to push a strand of hair from my face, his fingers grazing my cheek in a way that makes me catch my breath. The touch is so gentle, so unexpectedly tender, and I find myself frozen in place, unable to move. “You’ve got a little hair out of place,” he murmurs, his voice low and hushed, his fingers still lingering at the side of my face. His proximity feels almost overwhelming now, and I can feel the tension building between us, the air thick with unspoken words. His gaze flickers from my eyes to my lips, and I can’t help but feel the heat rise in my chest. Just as the moment hangs between us, fragile and full of something neither of us has said yet, the door bursts open again with a loud creak. “Yo, Thaddeus! What are you doing up here?!” Edgar’s voice echoes through the room, and I immediately pull away, my heart sinking at the interruption. Thaddeus’s face falls into something more exasperated as he glances back toward the door. “Seriously, Edgar? Can’t a guy catch a break?” I step back quickly, my breath shaky as I try to regain some sense of composure. “I should go,” I mutter, not quite meeting Thaddeus’s eyes. “No,” he says quickly, stepping toward me. But the moment is already gone, shattered by his brother’s loud presence. Edgar, noticing the tension between us, raises an eyebrow with a knowing smirk. “Yeah, I’m gonna take that as a ‘good time,’ huh?” He chuckles, stepping inside further. “I’ll give you two some space. Just don’t get too… cozy, alright?” I can’t help but laugh nervously, avoiding both of their gazes as I make my way to the door. “It’s fine,” I say quickly, brushing past Edgar. “I’ll just—” Thaddeus calls after me, his voice softer now, but I don’t turn back. “You okay?” I stop for a moment, glancing over my shoulder at him, unsure of what to say. “Yeah. Just… I need to go.” And with that, I leave, the warmth of the moment still lingering in my chest even as I step out into the cold night air. The cool breeze brushing against my skin, I turn on my heel and make my way back toward the building, my footsteps echoing in the quiet night. When I reach the entrance, the door creaks open again, and I head straight up to where I left everything. The soft glow from the neon lights outside spills in through the cracks in the walls as I gather my supplies. The sketchbook, the pencils, the paints—they all feel heavier now, weighed down by the emotions I’ve been carrying. I can’t help but think about the moment with Thaddeus, the way his hand lingered near mine, the tenderness in his touch. It’s all too much to process right now. I load the canvases into my car, my fingers brushing the edges of the fabric, my heart still racing from the intensity of the evening. Once everything’s packed, I sit for a moment in the driver’s seat, my mind replaying everything that just happened. But the thought of going home makes a pit form in my stomach. I drive off, heading back into town, the streets feeling colder the closer I get to my house. When I pull into the driveway, the lights are already on in the living room, and I can hear the faint sound of shouting from inside. I sigh, my shoulders tense, as I grab my bags from the backseat and head toward the front door. The yelling gets louder as I step inside. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” my mom’s voice rings out, sharp and angry. “You’re always playing the victim! You don’t get it, do you?” my dad retorts, his voice equally raised. I freeze in the doorway, unsure of what to do. I’ve never been good at dealing with this—when the arguments get heated, when things start to feel like they’re on the verge of breaking. I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the heaviness in my chest as I make my way upstairs, trying to avoid making my presence known. I don’t know what they’re fighting about, and honestly, I’m not sure I want to know. The house has never felt so suffocating before. I drop my stuff onto my bed and collapse onto it, face buried in the pillows, trying to block out the noise from downstairs. It’s the same argument, the same frustration, over and over again. After a while, I hear the shouting die down, replaced by silence. That’s when I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The weight of the day hits me all at once, and I pull the covers over myself, my mind still spinning from everything that happened. From Thaddeus. From the way he looked at me, the way we were so close to something I couldn’t quite understand. But that’s not what I need right now. I need space. I need peace. So, I shut my eyes, willing myself to forget everything and let sleep take over. The last thing I hear before I drift off is the faint sound of my parents’ muffled voices again—quiet, but still tense. It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow will be a new day. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll figure out what to do with all the chaos inside me.