Chapter 198

Chapter 198
Stella:

I stood at my kitchen window, watching the parking lot for Noah's car. My coffee had gone cold an hour ago, untouched on the counter. The morning light felt too bright, too cheerful for the knot of anxiety sitting in my chest.

My phone buzzed.

Noah: Five minutes out.

My hands tightened on the windowsill. We'd agreed he should come over after dropping Zoe at the airport, but now that the moment was here, I couldn't stop thinking about the look in Zoe's eyes yesterday. The way she'd studied us both, cataloging every interaction, every carefully maintained distance.

She knew something was off. We'd been too careful, which had made us obvious in a different way.

The question was how much she suspected.

Noah's Honda pulled into the lot, and I watched him park in a visitor spot far from my assigned space. Even now, he was thinking about optics. About what it would look like if someone noticed his car here too often.

I opened the door before he could knock.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hi."

We stood there for a beat, neither of us moving. Then he stepped inside and I closed the door behind him, and suddenly we were in each other's arms.

I buried my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with campfire smoke that still clung to his flannel. His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.

"God, I missed you," he murmured against my temple. "That was the longest two days of my life."

"I know." My voice came out muffled against his shirt. "I kept wanting to look at you and I couldn't."

"You did look at me. By the river." His thumb traced small circles at the base of my skull. "I saw you."

"You were supposed to be watching the fishing line."

"I was watching you watch me." A pause. "Stella... we need to talk about what happens now."

I pulled back just enough to look up at him. His expression was serious, almost nervous, and that made my stomach clench.

"You said you had something to tell me," I said. "Something that would change things."

"Yeah." He took a breath. "But first... can we just sit down? I need to not be standing for this."

I led him to the couch, and we sat facing each other, close but not touching. My hands twisted in my lap.

"Whatever it is," I said, "just tell me. Please."

He reached out and stilled my hands with his own. "It's not bad. I promise. It's just... complicated."

"Everything about us is complicated."

"True." A ghost of a smile crossed his face, then faded. "Okay. So. You know how I do freelance graphic design work? How I've been financially independent since high school?"

I nodded slowly, not sure where this was going.

"That's not the whole truth." He took another breath. "I'm not a graphic designer. I mean, I can do design work, but that's not where the money comes from."

My heart started beating faster. "Noah—"

"I'm a webtoon artist." The words came out in a rush. "I've been serializing a romance comic online since I was seventeen. It's... pretty successful. I have over ten thousand paid subscribers on Patreon."

I kept my face carefully neutral, but inside, something warm and mischievous unfurled in my chest. So he was finally telling me.

"A webtoon artist," I repeated slowly. "That's... unexpected."

"I know it sounds weird." He was watching my reaction carefully. "I draw romance comics. Under a pen name. Luna Nightshade."

I let my eyes widen just enough to look surprised. "Luna Nightshade? That's... quite a name."

"I was seventeen when I picked it." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed. "It sounded mysterious at the time."

"And you make enough from this to support yourself?"

"Yeah. More than enough, actually." His grip on my hands tightened. "That's how I've been able to buy you things. The groceries, the gifts, all of it. I wanted you to know it's not my parents' money. It's mine."

I studied his face, seeing the vulnerability there. The need for me to understand that he'd built something on his own. That he wasn't just some kid playing at independence.

"Can I see it?" I asked. "Your work?"

He looked surprised. "You want to?"

"Of course. If it's important to you, I want to see it."

He pulled out his iPad, and I had to fight to keep my expression neutral as he opened the file. I'd seen these panels before. Had spent hours analyzing them, leaving detailed comments about the character dynamics and emotional beats.

Had been leaving increasingly flirtatious comments over the past few weeks, watching him squirm.

"This is the latest chapter," he said, turning the screen toward me. "It's still in draft form, but..."

I leaned in, pretending to study the panels for the first time. The female lead's office. The male lead standing close, tension crackling between them. The almost-kiss that I'd commented on just last week, saying the artist should make the male lead bolder.

"This is beautiful," I said honestly. "The way you capture emotion with just a few lines... the body language, the micro-expressions. You're really talented, Noah."

His face lit up. "You think so?"

"I know so. I teach this stuff, remember?" I scrolled through a few more panels. "The attention to detail is impressive. You must observe people very carefully."

"I have a good reference." His voice had gone softer. "The female lead... she's based on you."

"On me?" I looked up at him, letting just a hint of amusement show. "Since when?"

"Since the beginning. Since the day we met." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Your expressions, your body language, the way you move when you're thinking. You're in every panel, Stella."

I thought about all the comments I'd left. All the times I'd analyzed the female lead's psychology, suggested she should let her guard down more, be more vulnerable. Had I been subconsciously coaching him on how to reach me?

Or had I known, on some level, that I was talking to him?

"What about the male lead?" I asked, keeping my voice light. "Is he based on anyone?"

"Me, I guess." He looked embarrassed again. "Or who I want to be. Confident enough to go after what I want. Bold enough to push boundaries."

I remembered the comment I'd left on the latest chapter. The male lead should be more aggressive here. The female lead is waiting for him to make a move, even if she won't admit it.

And then, just days later, Noah had kissed me in my office for the first time.

"You have subscribers?" I asked. "People who pay to read this?"

"Over ten thousand." He was watching me carefully, trying to gauge my reaction. "Most of them are pretty engaged. They leave comments, analysis, suggestions."

"Do you read the comments?"

"Every single one." Something in his expression shifted. "Although lately there's been this one subscriber who's been... persistent."