Chapter 2

After that day, Daniel and I started interacting more and more.

I was a freelancer, so I spent most of my time at home drawing. My schedule was all over the place.

I often forgot to eat, and pulling all-nighters to meet deadlines was part of my routine.

Daniel was an architect, always busy with work, leaving early and coming home late. But somehow, he always seemed to know how I was doing.

If I overslept, skipped breakfast, and hunched over my desk, sketching away, a knock would sound at my door.

Daniel would show up with a warm breakfast, milk, bread, and eggs, all my favorites, and he never brought the same thing twice.

In the evenings, if I got so absorbed in my art that I forgot to make dinner, he'd bring over a home-cooked meal.

Sometimes, it was fried chicken, sometimes beef steak, and sometimes a soothing bowl of soup that was easy on my stomach and right for my taste.

I felt a bit embarrassed always mooching off his food, so I started learning to bake cookies, mini cakes, and pies.

As soon as they were ready, I'd pack them up in cute little boxes and drop them off at his door.

I said, "Mr. Elliott, I made some cranberry cookies. You should try them."

He took the box, and as his fingers brushed mine, I quickly pulled my hand back, my cheeks burning.

Daniel noticed my ears turning red, and a subtle smile flashed in his eyes. He said gently, "They're delicious. Thank you."

Getting his praise made me feel like a kid who got a piece of candy. I skipped all the way home, feeling more inspired to keep drawing.

I gradually realized that Daniel's aloofness was a mask. Deep down, he was incredibly gentle and thoughtful, and all his care was hidden in the subtle, silent details of everyday life.

I spent hours drawing, and my back started aching, and Daniel caught me massaging my waist.

The next day, he brought over an ergonomic cushion and set it on my chair.

When I pulled all-nighters to meet deadlines, and my desk lamp was way too bright, Daniel showed up with a soft, eye-protecting lamp and installed it for me.

When fall hit Presville, the temperature dropped, and I forgot my jacket heading out.

Daniel had gotten off work, spotted me, and draped his own coat over my shoulders, leaving me wrapped in a faint cedar scent.

Whenever I finished off my stash of snacks and was too lazy to go downstairs, Daniel would come home from work with a big bag of treats, all my favorite flavors.

All those tiny bits of tenderness kept sneaking into my heart, and before I knew it, I found myself falling for my cold, distant neighbor.

My bestie, Noelle Richardson, came over to hang out. She spotted the ergonomic cushion, the eye-protecting lamp, and the mountain of snacks on my desk, her eyes going wide.

She asked, "Julie, good for you. Which handsome guy is treating you so well?"

I blushed and murmured, "It's my neighbor, Daniel. He's an architect."

Noelle instantly perked up, full of gossip. "Your neighbor? And he's cute? The way he looks after you, he's definitely into you. Don't let a guy like that get away."

I hurriedly shook my head. "He's a good person, always helpful. We're just neighbors."

Even though I said that, I couldn't stop the sweet ripples in my heart.

I found myself secretly looking forward to every run-in with him, waiting for his knock at my door, and the warmth he always brought into my life.

Daniel started to get comfortable with me being around and wasn't so distant anymore.

After work, he'd knock on my door and ask what kind of illustration I'd been working on today.

When I hit a creative block, he'd sit quietly beside me while I stared into space, and pass me some warm water.

Whenever I finished a draft and excitedly showed it to him, he'd praise me with that gentle look in his eyes.

On weekends, he'd ask if I wanted to go for a walk in the park downstairs and soak up some sun together.

We'd sit together on a park bench, soaking up the warm sun and chatting.

Daniel wasn't much of a talker, but he always listened so carefully, and whenever he did speak, every word felt like it was meant for me.

I'd tell him about my picture book ideas, the fairy tales I loved, and all the snacks I'd stocked up on.

He'd share stories about his design projects, the cities he'd traveled to, and the hidden bits of romance in his buildings.

The evening breeze drifted by, carrying the sweet scent of flowers.

I leaned back on the bench, watching his profile in the golden light, my heart full of sweetness. Days like this were so tender and lovely.

It was an unexpected moment that finally made me realize how I truly felt about him.

One day, I headed out to the bookstore for some art supplies. On my way back, the sky suddenly opened up, and rain started pouring down.

Without an umbrella, I ended up stranded at the convenience store by the entrance to my neighborhood, stuck and not sure how to get home.

The rain kept coming down harder, with no sign of stopping. The sky grew darker and darker, and as I watched the storm through the window, I felt miserable and a little anxious.

When I was feeling helpless, a familiar figure emerged from the rain.

Daniel was holding a black umbrella, walking quickly toward me. The edge of his dark shirt was drenched, but he still looked so composed and confident.

"Why didn't you call me?" Daniel asked as he reached me, his voice laced with a subtle tension and concern that almost slipped past me.

"I... I didn't want to bother you," I mumbled, keeping my head down, my voice soft and shy.

"It's no trouble," he replied, tilting the umbrella all the way over me and gently taking hold of my wrist. "Let me walk you home."

His hand was big and warm, wrapping around my wrist with a gentle, comforting touch.

As Daniel led me under the umbrella, his shoulder was left exposed to the rain, getting soaked, but he kept the umbrella steady above my head, making sure I stayed dry.