He looked at her and noticed her tired appearance. It seemed she had been quite busy.

“I didn’t want to bother you after our last meeting. But I must admit, it wasn’t easy,” he said, sitting down on the bench next to her.

“Why wasn’t it easy?” Ephor furrowed her brows.

“God, Sophie,” Libby rolled her eyes, settling down next to her on the railing. “When you’re human, it’s natural to feel things. Every event shapes your mood.”

“Right, I promised to call,” Ephor continued, not waiting for an answer from Van, who was staring at her. “So much work piled up. And complicated clinical cases at work. I’m sorry.”

“I understand. Every day feels like sitting on a powder keg,” Van tried to joke.

“Exactly,” she nodded, her voice devoid of laughter.

Sophia looked at him with her sapphire eyes, and Constantin noted that he had never seen such a shade before. They seemed to glow from within, giving her irises a vibrant brightness.

“But since we’ve run into each other, maybe we could take a walk?”

“Constantin!” the guys called out to him, interrupting the moment.

“Are your friends?” Sophia nodded toward the approaching guys.

“More like acquaintances. Let me introduce you to them.”

He stood up and gestured to the guys who had come over.

“This is Max, my old friend. And these are Albert and Denis. We just met today.”

“Not only did you buy yourself such a badass bike, but you also kept a beautiful girl hidden!” Albert exclaimed, shaking Sophia's hand warmly.

Something stirred inside Constantin.

“Nice to meet you,” she nodded. “I didn’t know you ride a motorcycle, too.”

“I don’t like to brag. Besides, it’s more of an occasional pastime than an everyday thing.”

“You’re downplaying your achievements,” Max waved him off. “In reality, he’s been saving diligently for his “steed.” This bike is a symbol of his determination. If Van wants something, he’ll put in maximum effort to get it.”

“Okay, enough,” Constantin said. “Guys, if you don’t mind, we’re going to take a walk.”

“Actually, it’s getting late,” Sophia glanced at her watch. “I’d like to get myself in shape before the weekend. But we’ll definitely call tomorrow and come up with something. Is that okay?”

Constantin looked at her, not hiding his disappointment, while the guys whistled suggestively. Or maybe it was Albert.

“Yeah, of course. Need a ride?”

“I drove here, thanks. So, we’ll stay in touch. Bye, guys. Have fun!”

Sophia walked down the promenade, leaving him to watch her go. Every time he thought he could spend a little more time with her, she slipped away.

“She’s a bombshell,” Albert said.

“Don’t be jealous,” Denis smirked and continued passionately talking about the fast ride with his friend.

Constantin wasn't listening to them. All evening he was troubled by his meeting with Sophia.

"Why did she look so exhausted? Is it really just work, or is something else bothering her?"

Returning to the studio, he thoughtfully started mixing paints. He tried to get the right proportions to achieve that very color, like her bottomless, large eyes.

He spent three hours on this, using a significant amount of oil paints, but barely managed to get close to the right shade.

The traitorous phone wouldn't stop ringing. Constantin opened his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight, and picked up the receiver.

“Van?”

He sat up sharply in bed, trying to shake off the drowsiness.

“Sophie, hello.”

“Hi. Did I wake you?”

Constantin glanced at the clock.

"Two in the afternoon, seriously?"

“I lost track of time last night while working on my paintings, but it's all good. I'm glad to hear from you.”

“I wanted to ask, how do you feel about Thai cuisine? How about dinner together?”

“As you can probably tell, my appearance answers your question,” he laughed. His voice was still hoarse. “I'd love to.”

“Great! I'll send you the address. See you soon.”

“See you.”

Constantin leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes. Then he opened them again and stared at the ceiling. His mind gradually dispelled the sleepy haze, and he descended to the studio with coffee in hand.

Yesterday, being a captive of mental illness, he hadn’t paid much attention to what he was painting. It was more of a healing ritual and an attempt to distract himself than a serious approach to his work. But today, standing before the painting with a clear mind, Constantin thought it turned out rather well. He hadn’t managed to capture Sophia's eyes, but he painted the mist over the river. The veil above the blue surface of the river conveyed that very sapphire color. A female silhouette, in a long white shirt, with loose dark hair and a wreath in her hands, stepped along the riverbank. The longer Van looked at this girl, the more it seemed to him that she was the mist, or that the mist had created her.

He loved nature like that. In his time, Constantin was inspired by landscapes and the romance of villages, and this left an imprint on his heart, helping him to feel the pristine nature more sensitively. Perhaps that’s why, even during a panic attack, he painted what grounded him. Namely, nature and the color of tranquility, the color of her eyes.

At 6 PM, as agreed, Constantin arrived at the cooperative filled with numerous gastronomic spots and started looking for the name Sophia had sent him. The neon bright green sign read "YAY THAY." Across from it, hills stood like a natural wall, shielding them from the outside world, and above, hundreds of hanging lights had already lit up.

Even though there was still half an hour until the appointed time, the girl was already sitting confidently in a rattan chair, carefully studying the menu. She wore a black polo shirt and round black sunglasses.

“The evening promises to be fiery,” Constantin said, approaching her.

“Well, sometimes there's not enough spice,” the girl agreed, not catching his joke, and handed him the second menu. “What do you think of trying?”

“I’m old-fashioned. So, tom yum and Chang,” he said, not opening the menu. “What should I order for you?”

“I’ve already ordered – Pad Thai and coconut water.”

“Do you always come early?” Constantin asked.

“I value my time, but I really hate being late,” the girl replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sophia spoke casually and briefly, but for some reason, he liked it for the first time. Her cool demeanor seemed to stimulate Van, prompting him to study her more closely and get to her true inner world.

“When it comes to time, I'm impatient. I always feel like I could do more if I were more productive,” he continued.

Their order arrived, and while Constantin delved deeper into the topic, Sophia was already enjoying her meal.

“Every time people leave my exhibition, I think about how much more I still need to grow. Perhaps I haven't spent enough time improving the results of my work,” said Constantin.

“But you live only for creation. Isn't that enough?” Sophia replied.

“As long as there are negative reviews of my work, it's not enough,” Constantin shrugged.

“Why are you so calm?” Sophia asked. “Doesn’t it irritate you that some people don’t appreciate your paintings? They couldn’t even paint a single part of them, yet they still come to your exhibitions and leave negative comments.”

He paused to think. Did he feel irritation at the sight of the ignorant near his work? No.

“I can’t turn a detached skeptic into an art connoisseur,” Van shrugged. “But I can try to instill in him the idea that everything is art and has the right to exist. He may not find understanding in my paintings, but by listening to his favorite music, he’ll definitely get closer to my world without even realizing it.”