Aarav was a quiet artist who spent most of his days painting in a park by the lake. People often passed by, admired his work, and moved on. But one day, a girl named Meera stopped and stayed.
"Why do you always paint this lake?" she asked curiously.
Aarav smiled. "Because I'm waiting for someone who will ask me why."
From that day, Meera came to the park every evening. They talked about dreams, colors, and childhood stories. Aarav painted her once—her eyes, bright and full of wonder, staring at the lake. He didn’t show it to her. He kept it hidden, unfinished.
One day, Meera didn’t show up.
Then days passed. Then weeks.
Aarav kept coming, painting, hoping. He missed her laugh, her questions, her presence.
One rainy evening, just as he was packing up, a voice called out, “Still painting the lake?”
It was her. Soaked but smiling.
“Where were you?” he asked, his voice trembling.
She stepped closer. “I had to leave... family issues. But I came back. For you.”
Aarav pulled out the unfinished painting and handed it to her.
“You never left my canvas,” he whispered.
She smiled, and under that cloudy sky, they kissed—surrounded by colors, love, and the lake that brought them together.
