### **Chapter 2: When He Arrived**
Theo arrived on a warm spring morning, carrying nothing but a leather satchel and a notebook worn soft from years of use. The small coastal town was meant to be temporary — a quiet retreat where he could write in peace, away from city noise and deadlines. But the sea had other plans.
He found a cottage by the edge of the cliffs, a place where the wind never stopped and the air always smelled of salt and possibility. He spent his days walking the shoreline, jotting down thoughts, capturing fragments of ideas that never quite formed into stories.
It was on one of these walks that he saw her.
Elara sat cross-legged on the dock, a canvas propped in front of her, brush moving gently with the breeze. Her hair was tied up messily, streaked with sunlight, and her focus was absolute. She didn't notice him watching — not at first.
Something about her stilled him. She painted like she was chasing a ghost only she could see.
And in that moment, for the first time in a long while, Theo didn't feel like running.
He simply stood there, notebook in hand, and watched his future take shape in color and silence.