They both nodded, thanked the owner, and were led to a small corner with two easels.
Zephany took a sip of coffee and quietly sat down. For a while, she just stared at the blank canvas. Then, slowly, her fingers began to move. Soft brush strokes. A round shape. Curly fur.
She started to smile.
It was a poodle.
Kendrick glanced over and let out a breath of relief. He picked up his own brush and began to paint beside her. His poodle looked less fluffy, more dramatic. Slightly lopsided, but expressive. Very Kendrick.
They didn't say much, but the silence no longer felt heavy. It was peaceful now. Focused.
When they finished, they gave their thanks to the gallery owner, rolled up their artwork, and made their way to the station to catch the train home.
---
Back on the train, the quiet returned—but this time it was different. Less uncomfortable. More thoughtful.
Zephany finally broke it. "So... we're not going to dwell on what happened, right?"
