She tried to sleep.
Waiting.
Nothing.
Minutes dragged.
Her mind refused to quiet.
Overthinking.
12:47 AM.
12:59 AM.
1:13 AM.
Frustration peaked.
Her eyes snapped open.
"Great," she muttered. "Perfect."
The cat was already asleep, stretched beside her, breathing slow and steady—peaceful in a way Nora wasn't.
Careful not to wake her, Nora slipped out of bed.
Bare feet.
Silent steps.
She opened her luggage and pulled out a familiar case—her painting supplies.
Canvas.
Charcoal.
Paint.
She didn't think.
She just… started.
Black clouds first—heavy, restless strokes.
Darkness swallowing the space.
And then—
Eyes.
Deep.
Intense.
One eye held pain—raw, unhidden.
A single tear clung at the edge, as if it had nowhere to fall.
The other was cold.
Controlled.
Distant.
Yet in both eyes lived a reflection—another gaze, soft… sweet.
Strands of hair fell across the brow, untamed, almost defiant.
She worked without stopping.
Time slipped away.
When she finally leaned back, her shoulders ached and her eyes burned.
4:00 AM.
The painting stared back at her.
Not a face.
Just him—fragmented, unfinished, yet strangely familiar.
She yawned as exhaustion finally won.
Placing the brush aside, she stood and stretched.
"Meow."
The soft sound made her turn.
The cat was awake.
She walked over and scooped her up gently.
"Oh, you woke up," Nora murmured.
The cat licked her fingers, then her cheek—tiny tongue warm.
Nora laughed quietly and collapsed back onto the bed.
"Alright, alright… I'm yours now."
She cuddled closer.
Morning
Soft sunlight spilled across the room.
She freshened up—washed her face, brushed her hair.
Standing before the mirror, she paused.
Her reflection looked calmer…
but her eyes still carried questions.
As she turned, her gaze fell on the canvas.
Those eyes.
Watching her.
Her cheeks warmed.
She was busy with her skincare when a knock sounded.
She opened the door to find Meera smiling.
"Are you ready?" Meera asked.
"Oh—Meera, just give me two minutes," Nora laughed.
She grabbed her bag, double-checking everything.
When she turned back, Meera was standing near the window, staring at the canvas.
"Wow," Meera said softly.
"What an extraordinary artist… what an unworldly beauty this is."
She glanced at Nora, teasing.
"Is this your boyfriend?"
Nora's cheeks flushed instantly.
"No," she replied quickly.
Meera raised an eyebrow.
"Then it must be your crush."
"And why do you think that?" Nora asked.
Meera smiled knowingly.
"Because eyes this beautiful don't just appear on a canvas."
"And capturing masculine beauty like this…"
"That only comes from love."
Nora looked away, blushing harder.
"I'm ready," she said quickly. "Let's go."
Before leaving, she glanced around the room one last time.
The bed.
The window.
The corner near the chair.
The black cat was gone.
She paused—then followed Meera out, closing the door softly.
Moscow
Nora and Meera explored the city wrapped in long blazers, berets, and mufflers. Cold wind kissed their faces as laughter escaped with every breath.
Red Square looked magical.
Snow-dusted domes shimmered like crystals. People skated, laughed, and embraced winter's joy.
Nora felt genuinely happy—light, free.
Meera glanced at her.
"Do you want to try skating?"
"Ice skating… but—" Nora hesitated.
"But nothing," Meera grinned. "Come on. I'll teach you."
They stumbled at first, clinging to each other—then burst into laughter.
Slowly, Nora learned. Unsteady, determined. Meera never left her side.
Cheeks rosy.
Laughter echoing over ice.
[Nora's Thoughts]
"This trip to Moscow is the most beautiful journey of my life so far. For the first time, without guards, I feel free—like a bird spreading its wings."
"Woohoo!" she laughed.
Later, they ate at an Indian restaurant.
"Indian food only tastes right with real spices," Meera said seriously.
"It doesn't have the same soul here."
Nora smiled.
"Nothing compares to my grandmother's cooking."
"You're close to her," Meera said warmly.
"Hm," Nora nodded. "She loves me… and worries too."
After a pause, Nora asked,
"Do you know Moscow well?"
"Many visits," Meera said.
"I'm searching for a gift for my sister. I think I'll finally find it."
"You love her a lot," Nora said softly.
"Anything," Meera replied.
Nora hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
"This might sound odd…"
Her voice softened.
"I saw a villa in my dream—beautiful, but unsettling. I feel like it's somewhere in Moscow."
She looked at Meera, unsure.
"Can you tell me… is there really a place like that?"
Meera's smile didn't waver.
"A villa from a dream?"
She squeezed Nora's hand lightly.
"Then we'll search for it together. I promise."
Laughing under the glow of fairy lights, they returned to the hotel.
Exhausted, Nora fell onto the bed.
'Today was truly beautiful…'
'Mom… Dad… I miss you.'
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Sleep claimed her gently.
The black cat climbed onto the bed again, circling her.
"Meow…"
To be continued…