c h a p t e r  n i n e .

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(This is a longer chapter as it is a pivotal point in the story, so please snuggle up in bed or on the couch with your beverage of choice and enjoy~ Also, while I’m here, I’d just thought I’d let you know that there will only be one or maybe two more chapters of pure fluff after this one and then...well. Well well well.)

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“Alright. We might need more than one afternoon for that, though.” she said, laughing until she realized what she had just said.

                He smiled. “I’m fine with that.”

                Wendy crossed her legs under the table and bit her lip as she took a moment to think. “...Where do I start?”

                “Anywhere.” Chen reached into his suit jacket to retrieve his small notebook, and a pen. He opened it to a blank page and positioned his hand to write. He looked at Wendy as she looked at the manuscript laid out before her, patiently waiting for her to begin her review.

                “Well... Um... As a whole, I thought the book was really good.”

                “Not great?”

                She cocked her head to the side. “It has a great message, and your writing voice is reflective without being too superficial or inaccessible.”

                “So what do you think would make it great?”

                Wendy glanced down at the manuscript, tapping her forefinger on the corner of the page as she continued to think. “...How do I say this...? Your style is a bit...flat? I’m not sure if that’s exactly the word I want. I certainly wouldn’t say that it’s boring, it just needs...something, you know? Something extra that defines you as a writer. I haven’t read many books other than the ones I had to read for school, but each of those writers has their own special flavor. I’m afraid that a wonderful story like yours would get lost amongst a sea of others that are equally wonderful because they’re written by people as dedicated as you.”

                Chen was completely absorbed in Wendy’s thought processes. He paid careful attention to her as she spoke; her words, her facial expressions, her body language. All while nodding silently and jotting down notes after every sentence.

                “Think about it like this?” she continued, stirring her latte absentmindedly, “Your editor or whoever you sent the manuscript to probably receives dozens of stories every single day. Who’s to say that those stories don’t deserve his attention more than yours? You need something in your story that gives him no other choice but to give it his approval.”

                “It’s a solid point.” said Chen, stabbing a period onto his notebook before setting down his pen. “What does it need, though, Wendy?”

                Oh, how she loved to hear her name roll off his tongue, from between his cat-like lips. It took her longer than it should have to notice that he was gazing at her, patiently waiting for her answer.

                “It needs your spirit.” she said, refusing to take her eyes off of his, though not even knowing what she meant exactly by saying it. “...The more the story comes from your heart, the more believable it will be to whoever reads it.”

                “Do you believe it?”

                “I believe in you."━Chen blinked away tears that had suddenly and entirely involuntarily risen in his eyes━"You have to believe in yourself, too. You can’t give of yourself if you have nothing within you to give. You can’t make something great unless you make it with your heart, not just your mind or your body.” She lowered her eyes, then, eyes fixated on his hand, which rested on the table to the right of his notebook. “I am a ‘good’ barista because I believe in my ability to create good coffee. And I love making coffee. So my coffee is good. Does that make sense?

                “Yes, I understand. But you don’t consider yourself a great barista?”

                Glancing back up at him, she smiled. “Not yet. You and I both have work to do yet.”

                He smiled back. He wasn’t used to smiling so often, but he rather liked it, if only when he was with her.

                Her.

                Wendy.

                Chen watched her, surreptitiously, as she paged through the manuscript some more, scanning the pages with interest. Nobody else had ever invested themselves so much in his book; not his father, not his mother, not his stepfamily, not any editors, not even his own agent━nobody.

                There’s just something both unexplainably comforting and wildly thrilling about someone loving something that you also happen to love.<