The glow of the laptop screen cast an artificial blue light on Sweet's tear-streaked face. It had been two months since Alex had boarded his plane back home, two months of stolen moments snatched across continents, two months of a constant, gnawing ache in Sweet's chest.
She stared at his pixelated face on the video call, the familiar warmth of his smile failing to reach the hollowness within her. They were supposed to be laughing, reminiscing about their Cebu adventure, the way they always did on these late-night calls. Instead, the silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
"Hey," Alex finally said, his voice strained. "You okay?"
Sweet forced a smile, the gesture feeling brittle on her face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… tired."
The lie hung heavy in the air. Tired? She was exhausted – exhausted from the emotional marathon of juggling her classes, her art, and the constant battle against the ever-present time zone difference. Exhausted from longing for the feeling of his hand in hers, the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his presence that transcended even the high-definition capabilities of their video call.
"You sure?" Alex pressed, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. "You seem… distant."
Distant. The word echoed in Sweet's mind, a stark reflection of their current reality. Thousands of miles separated them, a physical barrier that mocked the connection they had forged under the Cebu sun.
Tears welled up in her eyes again, blurring the pixelated image of Alex on the screen. How could something that felt so real, so undeniable, be so easily fractured by distance?
Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in Alex's eyes. "Alright, enough of the mopey faces," he declared, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do something fun."
Before Sweet could question him, the camera shifted. Alex was no longer alone. He was in his kitchen, holding up a familiar object – a paintbrush.
A spark of curiosity ignited in Sweet's chest. "What are you doing?"
"We're going to have a long-distance art session," Alex announced, a grin splitting his face. "Grab your supplies, Sweet. Tonight, we paint the feeling of missing someone."
Intrigued, Sweet scrambled to gather her paints and brushes. Maybe, just maybe, amidst the challenges of their long-distance journey, they could still find a way to connect, to bridge the physical gap with the power of creativity and shared passion. As they began to paint, their silence transformed, filled with the rhythmic strokes of brushes and the soft murmur of encouragement. Would their canvases capture the bittersweet ache of missing each other, or would a spark of hope and resilience shine through? The answer, like their future together, remained a work in progress.
Sweet dipped her brush into a vibrant cobalt blue, the color mirroring the vast expanse of the ocean that physically separated them. Her canvas remained stubbornly blank, mirroring the emptiness she felt without Alex by her side.
A soft chuckle drifted through the speakers. Glancing at the screen, she saw Alex's canvas – a swirling vortex of fiery orange and crimson, a stark contrast to her own subdued palette. "Wow, Alex," she breathed, surprised by the intensity of his colors.
"Trying to capture the heat of missing you," he winked, his voice teasing yet sincere.
Sweet felt a blush creep up her neck. "Well, I'm aiming for… the calmness of the ocean before a storm," she mumbled, swirling her brush hesitantly. Was she being too transparent?
"There's beauty in a storm, Sweet," Alex said softly, his gaze seeming to pierce right through the screen. "It signifies change, growth, the power to overcome something difficult."
His words hung in the air, causing a spark of inspiration to ignite within Sweet. She dipped her brush in a vibrant yellow, mimicking the warm glow of the Cebu sunset they'd shared. Maybe her painting wouldn't just be about the emptiness of missing him, but also about the hope for a future where they wouldn't have to paint from separate rooms, miles apart.
As the night deepened, their initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by a comfortable silence punctuated by the soft sounds of painting. Occasionally, they'd share glimpses of their progress, offering encouraging comments and playful jabs. Despite the distance, a sense of connection blossomed through their shared artistic language.
Finally, after hours of focused creativity, Sweet held up her finished work. It wasn't just a canvas filled with blue; it was a vibrant seascape with a solitary sailboat, its sails billowing with wind, catching the last rays of the setting sun. A single seagull, painted in a hopeful shade of yellow, soared above it.
"Wow," Alex breathed, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "That's… incredible, Sweet. The colors, the details… it tells a story."
Sweet returned the smile, a flicker of warmth replacing the earlier ache in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, this new chapter in their love story wouldn't be defined by distance, but by the resilience, creativity, and unwavering connection they shared.
"Your turn," she said, her voice filled with anticipation. "Let's see what kind of storm you painted."
The screen shifted, revealing Alex's canvas. The fiery colors had morphed into a breathtaking scene – a storm raging at sea, dark waves crashing against jagged rocks. Yet, amidst the chaos, a single beam of sunlight pierced the clouds, illuminating a small lighthouse standing tall and unwavering.
Sweet gasped. The image resonated deep within her soul. It was a reflection of their situation – the uncertainty of the storm, the distance threatening to engulf them, yet the unwavering beacon of their love, guiding them towards a brighter future.
As they signed off for the night, a newfound sense of optimism lingered in the air. The distance might be a challenge, but tonight, they had faced it head-on, armed with creativity and their unwavering love for each other. The storm might rage, but their connection, like the lighthouse in Alex's painting, would remain a beacon of hope, leading them towards a future where they wouldn't have to paint from separate rooms, but side-by-side, their canvases a testament to the enduring power of their love story.
The click of the video call ending echoed in the silence of Sweet's room, leaving a hollowness that the vibrant colors on her canvas couldn't quite fill. Yet, a spark of hope flickered within her, ignited by their shared artistic journey.
Suddenly, a notification popped up on her phone – a message from Alex. Her heart skipped a beat as she clicked it open. It wasn't just any message; it was a picture. In the grainy image, a familiar scene unfolded – the bustling Cebu marketplace, overflowing with vibrant fruits and colorful trinkets. But what truly stole Sweet's breath away was the figure standing beside a stall, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. He held up a small, ornately carved wooden box, sunlight glinting off the intricate designs.
The caption below the picture sent shivers down Sweet's spine: "Think I found the perfect way to keep the storm at bay. What do you think?"
Intrigued and a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins, Sweet typed her reply: "Show me."