DARKEST PATHS

NOLAN

"In the shadows of the night, even the smallest spark can illuminate the darkest paths."

Standing by our cars, the cool night air wrapping around us, I knew this was my chance. I couldn't let Alanna slip away again. "Can we go somewhere else to talk?" I asked, my voice soft yet insistent. She hesitated, her eyes searching mine for a moment before she nodded. "Okay."

I drove us to the museum, a place filled with beautiful paintings that spoke of forgotten dreams and hidden passions. As we walked through the dimly lit halls, I held her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. Each painting seemed to tell a story of love and loss, a reflection of our own tumultuous past.

We stopped in front of a particularly striking piece, a swirl of colors that seemed to dance off the canvas. "This one reminds me of us," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Chaotic, yet beautiful."

She looked at the painting, then back at me. "It's... intense."

I couldn't help but smile. "Just like