Chapter 17
“Do you know why I chose butterflies?” Juliet suddenly asked.
Nate put down the sketch as his eyes fell on the tattoo behind her ear. “Because only by enduring the agony of eclosing can a butterfly spread its wings and fly. Am I right?”
Juliet’s hand that was gripping her pencil trembled slightly.
Her eight years of love had amounted to just a bitter joke. She had once believed she would forever be stuck in that rain-soaked night when Damien had chosen to save Callie and given up on her.
“If you need me…”
Nate’s voice suddenly pulled her back to reality. “If your collection needs any structural support for next week’s fashion week… I can help work it out.”
He didn’t seem eager for her reply and didn’t even look at her. Instead, he sat completely still and left the choice entirely to her.
For a moment, Juliet’s eyes flickered. His simple offer felt like a key that slipped into the locked door in her heart, but he stayed outside the door and patiently waited for her to invite him in.
Outside, the winter wind howled uncontrollably. But the studio, which had been cold earlier, was now warm and filled with the scent of milk.
The week that followed was a blur of preparation for fashion week.
This was the third night Juliet had stayed awake until dawn. She couldn’t help but yawn.
The closer it got to the show, the more dissatisfied she was with her stage design. Crumpled sketches piled so high that they nearly buried her feet, and her exhausted body began to protest.
“But this still isn’t right…”
In a daze, she seemed to hear a soft knock on the door. When she looked up and saw Nate standing at the door, he raised a hand and beckoned her over.
She stepped into his studio and scanned the place.
Nate’s studio always carried the subtle scent of pine and graphite. Blueprints were scattered over the long table, yet they seemed meticulously arranged. They took up most of the space.
She instinctively softened her steps. Around her stood tiny, exquisite architectural models that made her feel as if she had stumbled into a miniature world.
Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to a miniature glasshouse by the window. Its domed roof arched in a curve that perfectly echoed the arc of a butterfly wing, just like in her sketches. Sunlight streamed through the glass and cast dappled shadows on the floor like delicate wings ready to take flight.
“This is…” Juliet’s voice faded to a whisper as she stared at it in a daze.
Nate’s footsteps stopped behind her. He carried the faint scent of pine on him. “This is a project from Synovalle. But if you like it, you can use it for your show,” he said, instinctively fiddling with her earlobe in a place out of her line of sight.
When a blueprint appeared before her, Juliet blinked at it in a daze before reaching out to take
Dust particles in the air danced on the paper. As if the lines could come alive, the roof of the dome unfurled into wings, and the glass seemed to wind into climbing vines.
She could almost see the soul of her design redefined through another art form.
“Won’t that be a waste? This has to be an important bid,” she said, shaking her head as she tried to place the blueprint back onto the table.
But Nate smiled and folded the blueprint before stuffing it back into her hands.
The next day, there was another knock on the door. Juliet quickly lifted her head with a hint of expectation that even she failed to notice.
Nate stepped in, cradling a model with unmelted snow in his hair.
The domed roof of the glasshouse had transformed into the asymmetrical wing of a butterfly. Each pane of glass was etched with a unique butterfly pattern that scattered rainbows under the light.
What drew her eye most was the crooked ribbon bow at the base, resembling a clumsy butterfly pausing to rest.
She also noticed the bandage wrapped around his fingertips.
“It was my first time tying a ribbon bow, so forgive me for how rough it looks.” The tips of his ears flushed pink. When he spoke, his voice was attractively deep.
Warm light spilled through the studio. As Juliet stared at his earlobes, she found herself asking, “Why do you treat me so well? Is it only because Henry asked you to?”
Nate was silent for a long while before he softly answered, “Henry did task me to care for you.” The silence that followed was so heavy that their hearts drummed deafeningly against their
chests.
As his fingers traced the model, he announced, “But I won’t deny having my own reasons too.”
