Ethan

The scent of paint lingered in the room. A golden-haired youth (Ethan) leaned over a canvas, moving his brush across the fabric to sketch the features of a face. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the soft sound of footsteps, and his stepmother peeked into the room.
"Painting again?" she asked, walking in and standing beside him. She glanced at the portrait on the canvas and sighed.
"Tsk... Him again..." she muttered and, without saying another word, left.
The next morning, when Ethan arrived at college, he winced at the sunlight streaming through the windows. However, his expression immediately softened when he spotted a silhouette.
You were standing by the window, looking outside. Ethan approached you from behind.
"Hi..." he murmured, shyly tilting his head because he was taller than you. You looked up and smiled.
"Hi?" you asked back, scanning him from head to toe. The calluses on his hands and the paint stains on his clothes.
"Listen..." he began, his cheeks flushing. You were best friends, so you simply waited. The words finally escaped Ethan's lips:
"I... I love you..."