✰ ✰

"𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬"

She gasps for air, her head coming up from under the warm water. She fists her hands and rubs at her eyes before standing from the tub, exiting the bubbly warm mess.

A delicate, black towel wraps around her petite body, absorbing the weathering droplets of water that clung to her flesh.

Reopening the bathroom door, she walks her way to the closet picking up her previously picked outfit for the event today.

Nerves grew from inside her veins, her dress becoming a meaningful reminder of what just this evening happened to be.

The art competition her boyfriend had somehow managed to gift her tickets to. Tickets to enter the prestigious event.

A low sigh came from her lips, shaking off the nerves—she shimmied off the towel and dressed.

The white, short dress hung just above mid-thigh. It had a bowtie amid the bust, the sleeves were short but had a slight puff. The rest of the dress hugged her body nicely.

An ankle-long, black fur coat was then placed behind her shoulders, walking out of the closet she went over to the vanity and sat down—beginning to ready herself for the big day.

✰

Her heels clicked against the black marble tiles, the last click catching the attention of the grown man. The twenty-one-year-old stood tall, his demanding presence also catching the attention of the girl.

The brightest smile came upon her lips, the colour of grey in her eyes now lighting up with happiness as she sees the love of her life.

Dressed head to toe in black, he holds his hand out for her to take as she steps forward. The smaller hand reaches out, taking the larger, tatted one.

He pulls her to his chest, delicately. "You look beautiful," He wore a half-smile upon her own happiness, true light shining through the darkness of his somehow lighter soul.

"Thank you," She smiled, running her hand up and down the muscular arm that held onto her waist. Looking to the time on his watch, she glanced up into his eyes. "Ready?"

His mixed coloured eyes gleamed, his head tilting as he leaned down to kiss the girls lips. She softly kissed him back, the familiar comfort of his taste and feel has all of her nerves vanished into thin air—managing to keep her safe and secure.

Pulling away, he lightly removed his hands from her waist—bringing them to both of her rosy cheeks. "I am now," He murmured, a devilish glint in his eye. Rolling her eyes, she curled her arm around his and led the way out of their overly sized mansion.

✰

The snow fell lightly onto their shoulders, snowflakes dusting their coats and the sprinkles of white resting on the tips of their hair like light feathers.

Arabella pulled her fur coat around her tightly, she knew wearing a dress would only lead her to her utter death, but she thought it was just perfect for the evening.

Roman made sure she was warm enough, dismissing her protests. They walked along the trail in central park, the area clearly lit up with colourful lights and the snow all the more making it seasonal.

The curt view of the main event tonight was clear as day, the sheltered area was packed with figures and the closed-off stage filled with a certain number of contestants' art.

Arabella's gaze was then determined to the exact spot where her painting would be placed. And so she began walking in that direction, her painting in her arms—protected, of course.

Roman watched his girl stride towards the area, his head and heart going crazy at the sight of her movements. Each demanding stride she made was set for anyone's attention to be redirected to the small but fiery young woman.

He hadn't followed her, letting her actions take control of themselves. Though, he did watch from afar.

Arabella walked in front of the neon sign that read where contestants should line up. A woman in a pressed suit, shades covering her eyes and hair slicked back into a tight ponytail—stood right in front of her, holding one strong hand out.

"ID and ticket." Nonchalantly, she demanded. Arabella confidently uprighted her shoulders, standing to her full height as she passed the woman her ID and the ticket, as she wished for.

Glancing down, the security guard thoroughly looked at the evidence before looking down to her bored—appearing to have the name 'Arabella Malik' on her list.

"You can go. There will be a spot for your art piece in the section under your name, make sure to only place it there and then to take a seat with the rest of the guests."

She nodded, passing the woman and heading directly backstage. Her footsteps were light, though they felt incredibly heavy. Each step determined her fate, once she placed down the art—it was up to everyone else whether her talent was worth it or not.

The woman made it onto the stage, stepping onto the red, velvety carpet. Right at the very end laid her name and black wooden easel.

Bold letters lining in gold had her arms reaching forward, placing the artwork on the easel and gently slipping off the white plastic that protected it. Her painting was then discovered for the eyes around her.

Breathing in deeply, Arabella stepped aside—looking at the painting one last time before heading back down the row of stairs.

The artwork Arabella chose was something meaningful to her, something she adored with her heart and something she wanted others to adore too.

A painting she made at the start of the year, a time and place with a person she barely knew—yet she had no idea that she was falling deeply in love with.

Arabella slowly walked back over to her friends and family and lover. She leaned over kissing her fathers cheek, doing the same with the others. Then finally, she sat down next to Roman—adjusting herself before even casting a glance at the man.

In the very specific section of the premises held very important people—artists to be exact. They were the ones to judge her painting and the others.

Only ten remained up there, Arabella so fairly had made it to the top of the list and here she was, sitting and watching her artwork be assessed.

"It's so beautiful Arabella," Layla, her mother, claimed. Looking at her daughter with nothing but love.

Arabella bowed her head once and thanked her, watching again as the judges' eyes grazed over the other contestants' art with nothing but blank expressions.

"The painting is of you both, isn't it?" Kara asked, a little smile on her face as she recalls the spoken memory from her best friend.

Arabella looked away, focusing on the beautiful woman and she smiled, nodding. "It is."

Connecting her eyes with Roman, memories upon memories of the two flashed before her eyes—each being special whether it was in the worst or best of times.

The painting was the same exact one Arabella had created a few days after her first date with Roman.

The two lovers sat at the top of a ledge of the rooftop he'd taken her to, softly looking at the city upon them with cups of ice creams in their hands.

Though the picture only held the figures from behind, her head leaning against his arm and his arm around her waist. And both eyes were directed at the city.

Colour after colour filled that canvas, expressing the story and the life behind it. Something that many of the paintings on display didn't have—a story.

Snapping out of the daze, she blinked once and glanced towards the famous artists standing and finally walking towards the art pieces.

They talked quietly amongst the rest of the noisy folks. Roman sneakily slid his arm around the back of her waist, then hung his hand on her stomach—rubbing at it to keep her nerves intact.

"Don't stress, Ella," He reminded her, whispering so softly into her ear she hadn't even realised it was him at first. The sound was so comforting to her soul she thought it must've been heaven.

"It's scary, Roman," She replied, in the same soft voice he spoke in—only the two of them hearing their exchange.

His warm plump lips pressed against the side of her cheek, then another was placed to her jaw—instantly her mind was forced away from the contest and to the touches.

"You're strong Arabella," He reassured, continuing the patterns he was making on her covered stomach. "They'll pick yours,"

He said it so assuringly, so confidently that Arabella almost thought that he was right. Though Arabella was humble enough to know that her art could easily be marked off as just another good painting—but nothing special.

"You can't be sure," She turned, looking up into his eyes with doubt. He shook his head, bringing his hand to her cheek—like earlier. "I am sure."

Sighing, she leant into his cold touch—her heated flesh warming his skin. She didn't reply, only focusing on his touch to somewhat help her cope with the nerves.

The microphone on the stage was then beginning to turn on, catching both parties attention. A 6ft man in a silk, floral dress shirt—coated with a large fur jackets and plain white jeans stood on the stage—grinning at the audience.

"Hello guests, thank you for attending this year's show. We welcome you and our special guests here tonight." Everyone went into an applaud of cheers and claps.

"And we welcome our contestants." The man looked in the direction of the said people, Arabella's family were the loudest of them all, amongst the other cheers of people.

"Yeah!" Nicolo stood, clapping his hands and started cheering his twin sister's name. His twin giggled as she stared at him in adoration, Andre patting his shoulder in a way for him to calm down—though he was only doing the same himself moments ago.

The man on the stage chuckled, glancing between all the people below. "The judges will decide which painting will be held in the Fore-Line Museum here in New York, also granting the access to all career opportunities from then on."

Arabella smiled, her eyes lighting up at the thought of winning and having her work be seen.

"The winner will be announced in an hour. We hope you all enjoy the rest of the night, please hold yourself to any treats." The man smiled, another applaud of claps coming from the audience as he exited the stage.

"Don't mind if I do," Aydan slyly got up from his chair, hungrily eyeing the food placed onto the numerous stacked tables.

"Get me a cupcake!" Nicolo shouted, Aydan either ignored the request or simply hadn't heard him—leading Nicolo to huff in annoyance and run after him.

Arabella would have loved one too, though her stomach wasn't fit enough to absorb any sort of food. "You want to eat, Amore?"

She shook her head, resting it against his chest. "Just make me forget,"

He glanced down at her, raising a brow.

Then, he asked her a question—a random query it was. But immediately it caught her off guard from reality and dispatched her to the question.

She began rambling, her voice like honey to his soul-soothing and sweet.

By the time another snowflake hit the grounds that were covered in snow, it was then time for the annunciation of the winner.

Nicolo sat on the other side of Arabella, anxious for her. Roman sat calmly, the calmest of nearly everyone around. He knew she would get it, no doubt in his mind—his gut feeling was never wrong, ever.

Arabella watched the man come to the stage, a red envelope in his gloved hands as he then stood behind the microphone.

"Good evening everyone and thank you for your patience."

The audience grew quiet, contestants grew anxious? and Arabella held tightly onto Roman's hand.

"The judges have finally decided on the winner of this year's annual art competition. We thank every contestant for showing up tonight and having the courage and opportunity to display the artworks."

Roman took their laced hands, bringing them to his lips as he tried comforting the girl more. Arabella's heart raced as she watched the man take out a gold sheer paper, fancy looking for the two worded names written onto it.

"The 2020 Annual Art Competition winner is..."

"Oh, fuck," Nicolo mumbled, his nerves now taking over—though Arabella was far too concerned in the words that were spoken next.

"Arabella Malik!"

Tears formed the girl's eyes as she was immediately got attacked by her brother hugging her tightly and the rest of the cheers and yelps of her win.

"Could you please come to the stage, Arabella?" The man announced, smiling at the woman and the family that surrounded her.

Everyone parted ways for her, Arabella still in a daze of the surreal reality from the situation she was in. Walking to the front of the stage, she stepped up the stairs and stood next to the man.

Congratulations and other spoken words came from the man's mouth—nothing Arabella heard physically. Instead, she watched the painting get placed beside her, the judges came to the stage and shook the girl's hand, her eyes widening as she realised her idols were touching and congratulating her.

Lastly, as they announced where her artwork was going to be displayed, her eyes connected with his.

A proud gleam in his eyes as he smiled lightly, a smile only for her. He was standing, clapping slowly as she then finally showed her first emotion other than shock—

love.

Her lips formed a smile, a smile only for him.

As the audience stood, they clapped and cheered for the young girl—a smile of their own as they viewed the incredible painting.

And as for the girl and the boy, she lipped the words she meant with her whole heart.

"I love you," She said over the loud noise, her voice not reaching his ears but he could read what she said.

And he only hoped that she could understand what he said back.

"I love you, Ella." He said back, not using his voice but wording them silently.

Arabella understood. Words she's been hearing ever since they both revealed the love for each other.

And amid the happiness, she felt for the love and compassion from everyone around her, and of course the win of her artwork being framed and famed—the happiness she truly held at the moment, lied with him.

Her supposed lowkey relationship turned into something far more profound. A secret that she kept between herself and him, was now breached for the world to see.

A story of two strong villains falling into love deep enough to hurt. The story the painting expressed was now enough to show that almost anyone can fall into love, even one's without a heart.

Arabella stood proudly, a small tear falling down the left side of her eye.

And with one last look towards her lover, she turned on her heels, smiling at the ground as she walked off the stage with only one thought on her mind.

A thought nobody would think she would have held at that moment, but she did.

Because, like always, her mind was filled with only flickers of memories of only him.

Embracing into his arms, he hugged her to his chest—snowflakes falling onto the two.

"I'm so proud of you," He murmured into her ear, smiling.

Those words were enough for her. Enough for her soul to find immediate peace.

And it was enough to end this story.

Because now they embraced each other under the stars they fell in love under, both at their happiest and both so entitled to each other's never-ending love.

A love that was supposed to be a secret turned to be foreign to the world, known.

And that love would now be shown in detail, only in the midst of New York.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ.