The word Hope lingered on the page like a fragile promise, but the days that followed felt anything but hopeful. The rumors about Iris's brother continued to ripple through the school, fueled by Nathan Hayes's snide remarks and the relentless whispers of classmates.
By the time Cassian caught up with Iris in the art room after school, her shoulders were tense, and her hands trembled as she worked on a new sketch.
"Hey," he said softly, his usual confidence tempered by concern.
She didn't look up, but her pencil paused mid-stroke.
"Don't let them get to you," he said, pulling up a stool beside her. "They don't know you—not really."
Iris hesitated before flipping her sketchpad around to show him what she'd drawn. It was an abstract piece, chaotic and raw, with jagged lines cutting across the page. In the center was a small figure, curled in on itself, surrounded by shadows.
Cassian frowned. "Is this... how you feel right now?"
She nodded, her throat tightening.
He reached for a blank sheet of paper and began sketching alongside her. "Okay, then let's work on this together."
His lines were smoother, weaving through hers like threads trying to mend the chaos. Slowly, the two drawings began to merge into something cohesive—a blend of despair and resilience.
When they finished, Cassian leaned back and studied their work. "You see this?" he said, pointing to the center. "Even in all this darkness, there's light breaking through. That's you, Iris. No matter what they say, you're stronger than this."
Her chest ached, but it wasn't from sadness this time. It was something warmer, something she wasn't sure she deserved but couldn't ignore.
***
That weekend, Cassian invited Iris to the textile mill again.
"I've got an idea for our next piece," he said as they set up their supplies. "It's not for the showcase or school—it's just for us."
He pulled out a large canvas and placed it between them. "We're going to paint something that represents trust."
Iris hesitated, her hands hovering over the paintbrushes.
Cassian smiled. "It doesn't have to be perfect. Just... think about what trust means to you and go from there."
For the next few hours, they worked in silence, their brushes moving across the canvas in a dance of colors and shapes. Cassian painted an open hand reaching toward the sky, while Iris added delicate strings connecting the hand to a glowing orb above it.
When they finished, Cassian turned to her with a grin. "See? Perfect teamwork."
She smiled faintly, feeling a flicker of pride.
But the moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the mill. They both turned to see Nathan Hayes standing in the doorway, his smirk as sharp as ever.
"Well, isn't this cozy," Nathan drawled.
Cassian stood, his expression darkening. "What do you want, Nathan?"
Nathan shrugged, his gaze flicking between the two of them. "Just curious what the school's favorite duo is up to. Thought I'd drop by and say hi."
Iris instinctively moved closer to Cassian, her heart pounding.
Nathan's smirk widened. "Relax, Blackwood. I'm just here to talk."
"Then talk and leave," Cassian snapped, his tone icy.
Nathan held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Just wanted to remind you both that not everyone's buying your little 'tragic artist' act. Some of us remember the truth about her brother."
Before Cassian could react, Iris stepped forward, her hands trembling but steady enough to grab her sketchpad. She flipped to a blank page and wrote: You don't know anything.
Nathan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Well, would you look at that? She can stand up for herself."
Cassian moved to block Nathan's path. "You've had your fun. Now get out."
Nathan laughed but didn't argue, sauntering out of the mill with a parting, "See you around."
The tension in the air lingered even after he was gone.
***
Back inside, Cassian turned to Iris. "Are you okay?"
She nodded but couldn't stop the tears that welled up.
Cassian hesitated before reaching out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You were amazing back there. Don't let him make you doubt that."
Iris looked at him, her eyes searching his. She reached for her sketchpad and wrote: Thank you for believing in me.
"Always," he said, his voice soft.
For a moment, the world outside the mill seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them standing together. And in that moment, Iris felt something she hadn't in a long time—safe.