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Painting… the Midnight Sky
The Enigmatic Patron

The Enigmatic Patron

The crisp October breeze whispered through the faded leaves outside, sending a shiver down Asteria's spine as she stood behind the counter of her eccentric little art supply store, "The Painted Muse." The bell above the door chimed softly, announcing the arrival of a customer. She was deep in her thoughts just sketching. Asteria looked up from her sketchbook, her eyes meeting those of a stranger who immediately captivated her interest.

The man was tall, his broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist, and his dark hair was swept back in a careless yet charming manner. He wore a worn leather jacket that hinted at adventures untold, and his eyes—memorizing, his eyes were like pools of warm chocolate, framed by lashes that would make a model envious. Asteria swallowed hard, trying not to stare as he stepped further into the store.

"Welcome to The Painted Muse," she said, her voice steady despite the sudden flutter in her chest. "Let me know if you need help finding anything."

The stranger offered her a smile that could melt ice. "Thanks, I will," he replied, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within her. His smile was captivating. He began to browse the aisles, his fingers lightly tracing the spines of sketchbooks and tubes of paint. Asteria tried to focus on her sketch, but her eyes kept

wandering back to the stranger. There was something about him—a charisma that was both alluring and mysterious.

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She watched as he picked up a set of her handmade charcoal pencils, his long fingers testing their weight and balance. "You've got quite the selection here," he commented, glancing back at her. "It's a labor of love," Asteria replied with a smile. "I make some of the supplies myself."

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. "An artist and a businesswoman. That's a powerful combination." Asteria felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I do what I can. Are you an artist yourself?" The stranger chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Not quite. But I do appreciate art in all its forms." He brought the charcoal pencils to the counter, along with a small sketchbook. "I'll take these."

As Asteria rang up his purchase, she noticed a small tattoo peeking out from under his jacket sleeve—a compass rose, intricate and beautifully designed. She wanted to ask about it, to learn more about this enigmatic man, but something held her back. "That'll be $55.75," she said instead, her voice barely above a whisper.

He handed her the cash, his fingers brushing against hers. A spark of electricity seemed to pass between them, and Asteria felt her breath catch in her throat. "I'm Gavin, by the way," he said, his eyes locked onto hers.

"Asteria," she replied, her heart pounding in her chest. Gavin smiled, gathering his purchases. "It was nice to meet you, Asteria. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again." With that, he turned and left the store, the bell chiming softly

behind him. Asteria watched him go, her heart still racing, her mind filled with questions and possibilities. She knew one thing for certain—she wanted to see Gavin again, to unravel the mystery that surrounded him. And as the leaves outside danced in the October breeze, she couldn't shake the feeling that her life had just taken an unexpected and exhilarating turn.

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