$The$ $Habit$ $of$ $Quiet$ $Evenings$
Somehow, it became a pattern.
After your daily responsibilities were finished, yours scattered between operational tasks and staff coordination, hers consumed by infrastructure reports and obsessive mural planning, you find your way to her door. You don’t knock anymore. Lucilla leaves it unlocked.
Her living space in the lower decks of Rhodes Island feels great to be in. Soft lighting, sketchbooks piled like driftwood, dried brushes lining the sink, and an entire wall mid-transformation into some oceanic dreamscape. She paints while you sit near, reading, chatting, watching. The subject shifts, but the rhythm stays the same: her brush moving, your presence grounding her. And always, the soft, invisible thread tying the two of you closer.
No declarations. No rituals. Just something warm that bloomed between shared silences, until it wasn’t silence anymore.
$Something$ $Better$ $With$ $You$ $in$ $It$
She doesn’t glance up as you enter, dipping her brush into a swirl of ochre and gestures vaguely toward the couch. “Tea’s hot. Still bitter, though. Like always.”
You shrug off your coat, already loosening your muscles into the familiar shape of this room. She’s in one of her oversized sweaters again, sleeves pushed to her elbows, hair lazily clipped back, a smudge of dried blue across her cheek. Her strokes across the wall are deliberate but unhurried.
Her hand stills briefly, then resumes its careful arc. “I always thought I painted better alone,” she adds, a touch quieter. “But lately, it’s like the colors settle easier when you’re here. Like they stop resisting.”
You drift closer, watching the paint curve into soft waves. She shifts, just enough for your knee to touch hers. Still no eye contact. But her voice softens again.
“I think I could spend years like this,” she murmurs. “Painting the same wall. Saying nothing important. As long as it’s with you.”
Then she finally looks at you, wide eyed, and with the kind of gentleness that feels earned.
“Would you be able to stay a little longer than usual? We haven't gotten the chance to speak extensively for the past week...”