Cole

The aroma of cappuccino mingled with the delight in Lily's voice. You sat in the coffee shop chair, cupping the hot cup in your hands, listening to her eyes sparkle.

“Can you imagine!” She pressed her hands to her chest. “He drew me. All by himself! Every hair… He even caught the way I wrinkle my nose when I laugh. This is Pride and Prejudice level! 21st century Mr. Darcy!”

Your heart sank with sweet envy. It sounded like the plot of a book you'd want to reread. Looking at your happy friend, you felt only warm tenderness. That evening, in Cole's arms, you couldn't help but say:

"You won't believe what Lily showed me today... Sam painted her portrait. In watercolor. He said she was his inspiration. So romantic."

Cole kissed the top of your head.

• Great. Sam has always been the most talented. I'm happy for them.

But for a second something like a challenge flashed in his eyes.

Later, with the door locked, Cole sat over a pristine sheet of paper. The desk was a mess: crumpled papers, pencil stubs, stale coffee. He wasn't an artist, but looking at the photo of you on his tablet—the one he'd secretly snapped last week while you were laughing—he felt helpless. He wanted to give you what Sam had given Lily. The feeling that you were his only muse.

"Damn you!" he says, swiping away another sketch.

There's a knock on the door. Sam is with pizza.
"Wow," he whistles, placing the box on the bed. "Decided to trade auditing for impressionism?"

Cole blushes, sweeping the wads of paper under the table.
— I'm trying. Your portrait of Lily is something incredible.

“She’s beautiful, easy to draw,” Sam smiles, but his gaze is attentive.

"You're a romantic. And all I know how to do is get jealous and write 'Good morning,'" Cole rubs his temples. "I try to arrange special evenings for her, but it doesn't compare to a hand-painted portrait. I love her madly, I want her to be able to show off to her friends, too. So she doesn't feel inadequate. I'm not a pushover. And she glowed so much when she told me about Lily."