Music Oneshots

Beneath the Canvas | Ricky Olson

꒰ ⊹ ˚ Ricky Olson and Original Character! 𖧧 ७

୨♡୧ Word Count; 875 words ִ° ⋆ ʚɞ ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱

Ricky stared out of the coffee shop window, the rhythmic pattering of raindrops against the glass forming a soothing backdrop to his thoughts. He absentmindedly stirred his latte, the swirls of cream mixing with the dark coffee as he replayed the events of the past few months in his mind.

It all started when he met Cressida at a local art gallery. The vibrant strokes of color on the canvases had paled in comparison to the vividness of her laughter and the sparkle in her eyes. They struck up a conversation about the art, but it wasn't long before they realized they had more in common than a shared appreciation for creativity.

As Ricky stirred his thoughts, Cressida entered the coffee shop, her umbrella dripping with raindrops. She shook off the excess water, sending a few droplets onto Ricky's table.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, her voice carrying a melody that could brighten even the gloomiest day.

"No worries," Ricky replied, pulling out the chair for her. "The rain made me lose track of time."

Cressida smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Rain has that effect, doesn't it? It makes everything slow down a bit."

Little did Ricky know that the rain would become a recurring theme in their story, a symbol of the gradual, unhurried pace at which their relationship unfolded.

---

Over the next few weeks, Ricky and Cressida spent their time exploring the city together. They visited quaint bookshops, attended poetry readings, and shared quiet dinners at tucked-away restaurants. Each moment was like a brushstroke on the canvas of their budding romance.

One rainy afternoon, they found themselves at a cozy bookstore. Cressida browsed through the shelves, her fingers grazing the spines of books, while Ricky admired the way her face lit up when she discovered a hidden gem.

"Look at this," Cressida exclaimed, holding up a weathered copy of a classic novel. "Have you read it?"

Ricky shook his head, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I haven't, but if you recommend it, I'm in."

And so, they embarked on a slow journey of shared stories and stolen glances, allowing the pages of their lives to turn at their own unhurried pace.

---

As the weeks turned into months, Ricky and Cressida's connection deepened. They learned each other's quirks and dreams, finding comfort in the shared silences as much as in the spoken words. Yet, the question of what they were remained unspoken, hanging in the air like the soft mist after a rain shower.

One evening, they found themselves at the art gallery where they first met. The same paintings adorned the walls, but this time, the colors seemed richer, more vibrant, mirroring the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Cressida paused in front of a particularly abstract piece, her eyes tracing the lines and curves. "Isn't it fascinating how emotions can be expressed without words?"

Ricky nodded, his gaze fixed on her. "Sometimes words feel inadequate, don't they?"

She turned to him, her eyes searching his. "Ricky, what are we?"

He took a deep breath, the weight of the unspoken question lifting. "Cressida, I've been enjoying every moment with you. I don't want to rush anything, but I also don't want to keep you in the dark. I care about you—a lot."

A smile played on her lips, a mixture of relief and joy. "I feel the same way, Ricky. Let's keep going, one step at a time."

And so, they continued their slow dance, navigating the delicate steps of their budding romance.

---

Months turned into a year, and Ricky and Cressida's love story unfolded like the petals of a blooming flower. They faced challenges and celebrated victories, always leaning on each other for support. Their love was a sanctuary, a place where time seemed to stand still.

One sunny afternoon, they found themselves at a quiet park, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant hum of city life. Ricky took Cressida's hand, his thumb tracing small circles on her palm.

"I've been thinking," he began, his eyes searching hers. "What if we take the next step? Move in together?"

Cressida's face lit up, and she squeezed his hand. "I'd love that, Ricky. Let's create our own little haven."

And so, the slow burn of their romance transitioned into a new chapter, the embers of their love glowing brighter than ever.

---

As they settled into their shared space, Ricky and Cressida continued to savor the small moments that made their love story extraordinary. Whether it was cooking together, dancing in the living room, or simply enjoying a lazy Sunday morning in each other's arms, their connection only deepened.

One evening, as rain tapped gently against the windows, they sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Ricky traced circles on Cressida's hand, a content smile on both of their faces.

"Remember when we first met at that art gallery?" Ricky said, his voice soft.

Cressida nodded, her eyes sparkling with memories. "It feels like a lifetime ago."

"And look at us now," he continued, "creating our own masterpiece."

She leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss—a slow burn that had transformed into a warm, steady flame, illuminating the canvas of their shared life.

As the rain continued to fall outside, Ricky and Cressida embraced the beauty of the unhurried, the magic of a love that had grown slowly, deliberately, and beautifully over time.