CRAZY IN LOVE (Ongoing)

his love?

Willow's pov

Ꮗithout him noticing. He looks so engrossed, his fingers gracefully dancing along the strings. His messy hair falls over his forehead, adding to his charm. I can't help but feel a pang of guilt for invading his privacy, but my desire to capture this moment on film surpasses my trepidation.

As the shutter clicks, I hold my breath, praying that he won't suddenly turn and catch me in the act. The camera freezes his mesmerizing expression, the passion in his eyes evident even through the lens. This intimate glimpse of his creative process feels like a stolen secret, a memory I can hold onto forever.

But just as quickly as the thrill courses through me, a mix of emotions washes over me. Should I have asked for permission? What if he gets angry when he finds out? Is it worth the risk?

I weigh the consequences in my mind, contemplating the potential fallout of my impulsive act. On one hand, I have captured a precious moment that showcases his raw talent and vulnerability. On the other hand, I have invaded his personal space and trespassed a boundary that should have remained unbroken.

My heart races as I carefully retreat from the room, leaving him undisturbed. Walking away, I grapple with my decision, knowing that it's too late to turn back now. The picture I took holds a piece of his essence, a glimpse into the soul behind the music. It's a reminder of the connection I feel with him, even if it was forged in secrecy.

As I turned to leave the practice room, my heart still pounding from the conflicting emotions swirling within me, I froze in my tracks. His voice, rich and velvety, seemed to fill the room, resonating deep within my soul. It was a voice that could command attention, stirring emotions I never knew existed.

Slowly, I turned to face him, my eyes meeting his intense gaze. His presence was magnetic, drawing me in with an unwavering force. The air crackled with anticipation as I wondered what question he was about to ask. It felt as if time stood still, this moment suspended in a perfect blend of trepidation and curiosity.

With a gentle smile, he took a step closer, bridging the distance between us. In that moment, the weight of my guilt and the turmoil in my heart seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of connection and relevance. His voice, now softer but no less captivating, echoed in the stillness of the room.

"What were you capturing with your camera?" he asked, his eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. His question hung in the air, laden with possibilities, as I struggled to find the words to explain my impulsive act.

I opened my mouth, my mind racing to find the right response. How could I admit my intrusion, my invasion of his privacy, without pushing him away? The truth danced on the tip of my tongue, yearning to be set free, but I hesitated, unsure of how he would perceive my actions.

In that suspended moment, the tension between us grew, forming an invisible thread that bound us together. It was as if he could see through the layers I had carefully constructed, unraveling the depth of my emotions with each passing second. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored my own, creating a fragile connection neither of us could escape.

Finally, summoning all the courage I could muster, I met his gaze, my voice steady though tinged with vulnerability. "I couldn't resist capturing the passion and talent radiating from you," I admitted, my words imbued with sincerity and a touch of remorse. "It may have been wrong of me to intrude, and for that, I apologize."

His reaction was a mixture of surprise and contemplation, a storm of emotions playing across his face. For a moment, I feared I had pushed him too far, stepped over a boundary that couldn't be repaired. But as silence filled the void between us, a hint of a smile curved his lips.