"Yes, thank you, I'll see to it tomorrow morning." Azlin speaks through the phone before ending the call. She walks towards her work table to scan the wall beside it, which she had diligently filled with sticky notes full of reminders or appointment schedules. One by one she removes the ones she'd already accomplished, and eventually narrows it down to a time that will fit her schedule tomorrow. She picks up a pen and starts writing another note.

Faux Wall Panels -- 9:30 am

(Preference--cream, peach, blue)

Azlin sticks it to the wall and steps back, sighing at the shitload of appointments she has for tomorrow. Then she picks up her phone and scans through her calls and messages, double checking in case she missed anything else. However, she gets distracted when a notification from Instagram pops up, saying that she has another follower. Azlin was right. Ever since Ben started following her, she had garnered around eight hundred followers in the course of four days alone, all of whom are Ben's followers and most probably, fans. It could either be because of two things: One) they're just following whoever he's following, or two) they're trying to investigate what's her connection with Ben, and why he started following her out of nowhere.

Speaking of Ben, contrast to what he predicted, they haven't been able to meet as much despite of living so close to each other.  His schedule just proved to be more and more hectic, with interviews, fan meets, photoshoots, and promotional campaigns stacked on top of each other, and on the other hand Azlin started to become busier with her own preparations for the exhibit, juggling between art shoots, profile interviews, venue setups, and working on her masterpiece.

However, they did stay in touch, mostly thru Instagram where they strike up a conversation whenever their busy schedules allow them to.

Azlin allows herself to be distracted for a few more minutes as she scrolls through their conversions for the past four days, chuckling every now and then at their occasional banters. If there's anything she could conclude, it's that Ben is definitely much more cheekier online.

Although their conversations are usually brief, Ben still proves to be an effective distraction from her stress. And to be honest, if it isn't for Ben, she might actually be breaking down already due to the immense pressure and stress this exhibit is putting on her. Even just by talking for a few minutes, it definitely helps her mind refresh and shake off most of her anxiety.

As she reaches the end of their last conversation, which had been about three hours ago, Azlin puts down her phone and decides its time to get back to work. She pushes off a stray hair from her face and picks up her tools, facing her canvas once again as she tries to remember where she had left off. Just as she's about to touch the canvas, her phone rings.

"What now?!" She groans in frustration. She'd been interrupted from her work more than five times already, as if fate herself is trying to distract and stop her from finishing this masterpiece on time. She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths to calm herself as she answers the call, expecting another supplier. Although she's frustrated, she can't afford to be rude to these people.

"Hello?"

She fails to keep some annoyance leak through her voice. Shit.

"Everything alright?" A deep British voice asks.

Her heart seems to jump out to her throat.

"Ben," she breaths out. Although this is not the first time he's called her, for some reason her heart still jumps whenever she first hears his deep voice. Her hand unconsciously flies up to her chest, as if that would help calm it down. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay."

"Oh come on Azzie," He says with that tone indicating he doesn't buy the lie. 

"Just tired, that's all." She sighs, ignoring the nickname. At this point he's called her that name so many times already (despite of her protests, of course) so she just learned to get used to it. "I've just been getting calls nonstop for the preparations. My head feels like splitting just thinking about all the appointments I have tomorrow."

"Really? Am I calling at a bad time, then?"

"No, not at all." She smiles. If there's any call she needs right now, it's definitely Ben's. "In fact, your timing is perfect. I totally need the distraction."

"Aw. You missed me, didn't you?" He teases.

Is it bad that Azlin wanted to answer yes to that?

"You wish, Bennie." She laughs and rolls her eyes, although she's sure Ben could see right through it.

"Then I think you should probably step outside for a moment."

Azlin pauses. "I should what?"

"Step outside. You know, get some fresh air for a bit. Feel the wind... Feel the sun..." Ben casually says, but the cheeky way he had said it indicates an underlying meaning. Azlin's brows furrow as it processes in her head, then her eyes snaps wide open as it finally clicks.

"No. No you didn't."

She bolts towards the entrance of the studio, and as soon as she opens the door, lo and behold she sees Ben Hardy, casually leaning against the left side of the sunken doorway with a cheeky smile on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She jumps and covers his face with her hands as she frantically looks around. He's not even wearing a beanie, for Christ's sake. "It's broad daylight! People will recognize you!"

"So what?" He laughs and pushes away her hands. She huffs and grabs his hand, pulling him into the studio with her. "Relax Azlin, nobody recognized me!"

As soon as she shut the door behind them, Azlin gives him a scolding look.

"You're a celebrity, Ben! One way or another someone will recognize you!"

He just shrugs in response. "Then let them say hi or take a picture. Doesn't matter."

She gives him an are-you-kidding-me look. "Ben, I'm serious. You know what I mean."

"I know, I know." He raises his hands in defeat. "But aren't you glad to see me?"

He looks at her with puppy dog eyes, and that's where she melts. She rolls her eyes and tries to bite back her smile, but it's too late.

"Thought so," he beams. "Even better, I brought pizza."

He winks and lifts the two boxes of pizza he's carrying.

"I thought I was the one who owed you pizza?"

"You can always pay me back another time," he smiles cheekily and proceeds to place the said pizza on a nearby table. He immediately makes himself feel at home by proceeding to look around the place.

"You could've at least told me you were coming." Azlin uses her phone as a mirror to look at herself, only then realizing that her hair has become completely disheveled from its original bun and she had pieces of dried plaster all over her hands and arms, and even on her cheek.

"I look like shit." She mumbles as she tries to chip off the plaster from her cheek.

"You look adorable," Ben corrects. "And it wouldn't have been a surprise if I told you beforehand, would it?"

Ben eventually finds his way to Azlin's relief arts hung on the wall on one side of the studio, and he immediately falls into pure awe.

"Wow. These are fucking amazing." He unconsciously reaches out his hand, totally mesmerized by the textures. He studies the folds, the nooks and crannies of the piece as if wondering how it was possible to create such a beautiful thing. He glances at Azlin, his green eyes wide and sparkling. "I've never seen anything like this."

"Thank you," she blushes at the compliment.

"You're amazing, Azlin." He beams and comes closer to her. "Trust me when I say you're going to be famous. I just know it."

"It's too soon to say that," Azlin says, although she still can't stop blushing from all the compliments Ben is showering her. "Don't jinx it."

"Wanna bet?" He smirks.

"Shut up Ben," she just rolls her eyes at him and laughs, deciding to make a beeline for the pizza to change the subject. "Let's just eat the pizza before it gets cold."

***

Due to the absence of two available chairs in the studio, the two had to settle on just sitting on the table which, fortunately, is made of mahogany so it can easily hold both of their weights. Although unfortunately, it means they have to face Azlin's work-in-progress all the while they're eating pizza.

And to Azlin, it almost feels like agonizing torture, like a merciless taunt she can't do anything about.

"So you've come up with something, huh?"

"Not really," Azlin lifelessly answers. "I don't even know what I'm doing."

She disdainfully looks at her 'masterpiece' that is barely even 10% complete, which is supposedly meant to look like a bird with beautiful flowing feathers perching on top of a foliage of flowers. She's still not 100% satisfied with it, but it'll have to make do because if she delays the piece any further, she will--and surely will not be able to finish it before the exhibit.

"It's just... I don't know. It just doesn't feel right." she waves her hand at it. "It does't feel any different or special from what I've already done."

"You're being too hard on yourself, Azlin." Ben squeezes her shoulder to comfort her. "I know whatever it is, it'll be as amazing as everything else you do."

"But I want it to be better," she whines. "I want it to be the best that I've ever done. This exhibit-- this could be my once in a lifetime opportunity to be able to showcase myself, my art, and I want to present something that they'll remember for a long time, not just for 5 minutes or for as long as the exhibit lasts."

Ben falls silent as he falls into a deep thought, his face contorting into an expression as if he doesn't like what he's about to say.

"Actually, Azlin, I need to tell you something..." he nervously licks his lips, and she intently looks at him, waiting. He takes a deep breath and looks at her, his green eyes apologetic. "I actually came here because I wanted to tell you properly. I wanted to... say goodbye in person. Azlin, it's my last day here. I'm going back to London tomorrow."

It's like an arrow is shot through Azlin's chest, knocking the breath out of her. Stunned, she blinks and looks away.

"Oh... That's too bad then..." She wants to pretend that it's okay; that she's not affected much by it, but she just couldn't hide her dismay.

Ben stands up in front of her and reaches out to hold her hands, tilting his head to try and catch her eyes and make her look at him. Azlin would have laughed at how their situation looks, with Ben strangely seeming like a boyfriend about to profusely apologize to his girlfriend, but at the moment she's too occupied by the bitter thought that this may be the last time she'll ever see him.

"How long?" She quietly asks.

"I'm not sure... Maybe three months, maybe five..." He sighs. "It all depends on the filming schedule. But I'm supposed to be back in December."

Azlin's heart drops further, if that's still even possible. She's scheduled to leave L.A immediately after the exhibit, which means they really wouldn't see each other anymore.

"I really wanted to be there on your big day, Azlin. Believe me, I did. It's just that--"

"It's okay Ben, you don't have to apologize." She squeezes his hand and smiles. She already expected beforehand anyway that it would be impossible for Ben to come, knowing his unpredictable schedule. "I completely understand. Plus, imagine you popping out of nowhere in an art exhibit with all those photographers in there? People will go crazy."

She manages to laugh, fortunately causing the mood to lift up a bit.

"I may be all the way in London, but we'll still keep connected, okay?" A cheeky smile forms on his lips--that adorable, cheeky smile that Azlin will surely miss. "I'll still bother you whenever I can. Besides, you didn't think I'll let you forget me that easily, did you?"

She opens her mouth to throw back a witty remark, but freezes as a brilliant idea hits her.

She stares at Ben with eyes wide and mouth hung agape.

"Oh my God." 

Ben stares at her in utter confusion. "What? Why? What did I say?"

"OH MY GOD!" She jumps off the table and squeals, unable to hide her excitement. Picturing her, she looks just like a kid that just got handed the best Christmas present. "That's it! You are brilliant Ben! You are so so so brilliant! Oh my God thank you so much!"

She jumps and wraps her arms around his neck to give him a bone squishing hug, unable to believe that after a painstaking week she finally, for the love of heavens, FINALLY came up with the perfect idea for her masterpiece. Ben, on the other hand, although still confused by the whole ordeal, manages to wrap his arms around her waist to hug her back, resting her chin against the crook of her neck as he breaks into a smile. Whatever makes her happy makes him happy, and that's all he needs to know for now.

"Thank you so much Ben!" Azlin breathes out and pulls back to look at him, and only then does she realize how close they are. How dangerously close their faces are to each other, that she can already see her own reflection in his green eyes. His focus shifts to her lips, and she unconsciously does the same, realizing how pink and kissable looking his lips are up close. An electrifying feeling buzzes through Azlin's body, and suddenly, she's hyper aware of the warmth of his hands resting on her waist. It's like time had stopped around them.

However, it came as far as it arrived.

Azlin snaps out of if and pulls away, blinking as she tries to gather back her wits. She clears her throat to break the silence, while Ben just stares back at her with hazy eyes.

"Sorry, I uhh... just got a bit too excited." She shifts and looks down at her feet in an effort to avoid his intense gaze. "An amazing idea just popped into my head, that's all."

"Really?" Ben's confusion eventually turns into excitement as he realizes the situation. "Is it about your masterpiece? What was it?"

This time, it's Azlin's turn to flash a cheeky smile. "It's a secret."

"What? That's unfair!" He reaches out to poke her, but she's quick to dodge, laughing. "Oh come on, you realized it because of me! I need to know!"

"You'll know when you see it. It wouldn't be a surprise if I tell you now, would it?" She uses his own words against him, only making him even more determined to catch her. They fall into a small chasing game, but because of the constrained space it's not long before Ben catches her, proceeding to torture her with tickles in an attempt to spill her secret. However, it seems that Azlin is very determined not to spill anything except for her squeals and laughter, so Ben gives up and lets her win. Tired from their brief childish endeavor, they return to their pizza to continue eating.

Ben stays for an hour more or so, wherein the two just spent their time taking about Azlin's art, or Ben's movies, or their respective hometowns, or generally anything else they could think about while eating. Time passes by so quickly around them as they totally immersed themselves in each other's presence, and before they know it, it's already almost seven in the evening, and Ben has to go.

Azlin walks him to the door, the two still laughing about their recent conversation.

"You agreed, it's a deal." Ben confirms for the third time, making sure that it's legitimate and final. "Once you have your own studio, you'll come with me to London."

"That could take me years Ben! You know how much money those things could cost."

"That's fine, but a deal is a deal." He gives her a serious stare. Azlin raises her hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay. But only if you'll be my tour guide."

Ben smiles at that. "I'll be more than happy to." 

Once they reach the door, silence stretches between them once again. They both know what they should do, but they're just waiting for each other to say it. Azlin anxiously nibbles on her lip, not exactly knowing how to say goodbye.

Sighing, Ben pulls Azlin into a tight hug, letting it linger for a few more moments as if trying to savor it for as much as he could. After a few seconds--or maybe minutes, they don't really know anymore--he pulls back and slowly steps away. They look at each other with forlorn eyes, regretful that he'll have to leave her like this.

"I'll miss you."

That phrase already has a lot of meanings in itself, but for some reason, it still feels like an understatement. Ben felt this, and Azlin certainly did too.

Azlin returns a sad smile, hoping one last time that Ben could see right through her; to what she really thinks and feels.

 "I'll miss you too."

***

[A/N]: HOLUP IS IT JUST ME OR IS IT GETTING HOT IN HERE