Entering the studio, Matthew carefully placed the canvas on the easel and, turning to her, politely inquired, "What's next?" His gaze lingered on her face, and at that moment, she felt disconcerted by his question.

Arching her eyebrows in mild surprise, she awkwardly responded, "In what sense?"

"I'm talking about the painting," he clarified, his gaze unwavering. The question sounded simple, but there was something akin to a smirk in his voice.

"Oh, I see..." She breathed a sigh of relief and, shifting her gaze to the painting, added, "Now I have to clean it from the dirt and grease that have accumulated over the years. It will take a few days."

Matthew nodded, thoughtfully looking at her. "So, will you be spending all your time here?"

"Yes, exactly. I think I'll manage by the end of the week," she replied. "So, we probably won't cross paths anytime soon."

He raised his eyebrows, as if contemplating something. "I won't be here until the end of the week either. I have some assignments."

Her eyes expressed some surprise. "So, you're leaving?"

"Yes, for a short time," he confirmed. "So, we probably wouldn't have crossed paths anyway."

"I see..." she whispered and added, "In that case, bye."

Matthew smiled in response to her farewell. "Goodbye, Maria. Take care."

He left the room, and as the door to the studio closed behind him, a peculiar atmosphere lingered. Maria gazed out of the window, her thoughts wandering far away. A strange sensation warmed her soul, as if she had just encountered something mysterious and unexplored.

"Why do these brief moments with Matthew leave such complex feelings?" A thought flickered in her mind. She recalled his attention, his caring gaze, and polite words. It made her heart beat to an unusual rhythm.

Inside her, a peaceful intertwining of anxiety and joy, embarrassment and tranquility, took place. She acknowledged that she knew nothing about Matthew, yet his presence stirred an exciting harmony in her soul.

"And what if he behaves this way with everyone..." This thought sobered her. "Perhaps that's why all the girls look at him with such eyes."

Maria felt the tide of excitement turn into disbelief. How many times had she witnessed him politely interacting with others, making each encounter special? He was Matthew, a person whose gallantry elicited smiles and attention.

"Maybe I'm just one of many who have met his gaze, heard his words," she mused. "Or perhaps that's precisely what makes him special? The ability to make every meeting meaningful."

Her gaze roamed around the studio, as if seeking answers to her own questions. She recalled the moment when he was leaving, his smile, the caring gaze. "Take care" – words that seemed to carry more than just a usual farewell.

"No," she uttered and shook her head, dispelling these thoughts. "I won't be an obstacle for Isabella, and why should I indulge in all this? I'm only here for a month."

She looked back at the painting, but now a spark of determination glimmered in her eyes.

"For a month. It's just a moment in eternity," she thought, trying to calm the turmoil in her soul. "No need to get carried away with silly fantasies and expect something more. I came here to work, and that's what I'll do."

Maria took the brush in her hands and began her work. Immersed in her creative process, she attempted to distract herself from the mixed feelings lingering from their encounter.

The next few days promised to be filled with hard work and self-discipline. She delved into her art, hoping that focusing on the painting would help her divert these thoughts and accelerate the approach of the weekend.

As the workweek passed, the time for the weekend finally arrived, and she could go home.