Suho watched as Zuri began to speak, her voice laced with an earnest apology, her eyes filling with tears. Her words hit him like a tidal wave, and he could see the weight of her remorse. But before she could finish, he held a hand up, gently stopping her.

No, Zuri," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm the one that's sorry. I've been taking advantage of you, and that's not fair. You're not just the subway girl I met two months ago. You mean so much more to me now."

Zuri's eyes met his, and she wiped away a tear. "Suho, I... I didn't mean to say those things last night. I was just overwhelmed, and I thought..."

Suho reached across the table, covering her hand with his own. "I know," he said, his thumb brushing her knuckles. "We both said things we didn't mean. But we're past that now, and I don't want to lose what we have."

"Suho..."

A wry smile played on Suho's lips. "In all the excitement yesterday, we were both so caught up with pleasing others that we forgot about us."

He stood and moved to sit beside her, their eyes level with each other, and the truth rang clear. Suho took Zuri's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, her cheeks still damp with tears. She was the girl he knew. She was the girl he'd met on a lonely subway, a girl who'd snuck into his heart without even knowing it.

"You're more than a distraction to me, Zuri," Suho whispered. "And I will always be by your side, no matter what."

She leaned into him, her familiar scent of honey and cinnamon enveloping him.

They locked eyes, and in that moment, it felt like they were speaking a language only they understood, a language that transcended words. Zuri's voice was soft and filled with emotion. "I don't want to lose it either, Suho. I care about you more than I thought possible."

A warmth settled in Suho's chest as he looked at Zuri, knowing that their connection was stronger than any argument they'd had. They had been through ups and downs, but they were still here, still holding on to each other. And that was enough.

They ended their emotional conversation with their new official label and a passionate kiss.

And as they sat together at that table, their fingers intertwined, they knew that whatever lay ahead, they were ready to face it together.

Under the canvas of a star-speckled sky, Suho and Zuri sat in the gentle embrace of Zuri's backyard. The world around them was alive with the whispering wind and the symphony of crickets, setting a serene stage for their night of shared creativity.

They had arranged their impromptu studio with a blank canvas each, a palette of vibrant colors at their side. The soft glow of the moon bathed them in a silvery light, adding an ethereal touch to their setting.

Suho watched as Zuri dipped her brush with a graceful, almost reverent motion into the paint. Her hand moved with a delicate certainty, every stroke a silent word in their conversation. He imitated her, his movements more tentative, but no less filled with the joy of creation.

The rhythm of their painting was a dance of brushes and colors, a duet performed in the hush of the night. There was a comfort in their silence, a shared understanding that needed no articulation.

Occasionally, Suho's gaze would drift to Zuri, captivated by the way the moonlight played on her features, highlighting her concentration and the subtle movements of her hand. The sight stirred something deep within him, a fondness and admiration that went beyond the canvas of their relationship.

"Zuri," Suho spoke softly, breaking the silence between them. "Where do you get your inspiration from? Your art...it's captivating."

Zuri paused, her brush mid-air, and looked over at Suho. A small smile played on her lips as she considered his question. "Well, one of my biggest inspirations is Jean-Michel Basquiat. His work speaks to me on a different level," she shared, her voice tinged with reverence.

"Basquiat, huh?" Suho nodded, intrigued. "That's quite the choice. What draws you to him?"

"He was an American artist, like me, and he broke boundaries, defied stereotypes. My parents, especially my dad, have this notion that black people shouldn't pursue art. They see it as impractical, especially for us. But Basquiat, he showed that it's not about your background but about what you create," Zuri explained, her eyes shining with a mix of defiance and passion.

Suho listened intently, moved by her words. "I see. That's incredibly powerful, Zuri. Your art, it's a part of who you are, and it's beautiful," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

Zuri blushed slightly at his compliment. "Thank you, Suho. It means a lot, especially considering my family's view on it."

They continued to paint in companionable silence, each lost in their thoughts and the swirl of colors on their canvases for a minute.

Suho's gaze fell on Zuri's crop top, emblazoned with the words "I stand with Kap". He pondered for a moment before voicing his thoughts.

Suho, finally breaking the tangible silence that could be cut with a machete said, "Zuri, you often wear shirts with strong messages like 'Black Lives Matter', 'Free Palestine', and now this one. Have you ever thought that some people might see them as a threat?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Zuri turned to face him, her eyes wide with incredulity. "If they feel threatened by a message of equality and justice, then maybe they're part of the problem," she responded, her voice firm yet thoughtful. "These shirts aren't just fabric to me, Suho. They're a part of who I am, my beliefs, and my support for those who struggle for their rights."

She took a breath, He could see the emotions swirling inside her, manifesting itself into the stroke of her brush. She paused before continuing, her voice tinged with resolve.

"I stand by these messages and, as a young black woman in America, I take pride in wearing these clothes. I'm proud of who I am and the fact that I belong to a community that has always fought against oppression, against people of color, the LGBT community, women, and countless other marginalized people," Zuri explained, her words dripping with confidence and conviction. "And if that makes me a threat, then so be it. I am not afraid to speak up for what is right, for what is just. For change."

Suho gazed at her, awe and adoration mingling in his gaze. Suho nodded, absorbing her words. "I understand. I guess, growing up where I did, in an affluent neighborhood and going to boarding school since I was twelve, I never really experienced the kind of struggles you're standing up for."

Zuri looked at him, her expression softening. "It's different for each of us, especially as people of color in America. For me, it's about standing up against the injustices faced by my community. What about you, Suho? Being Korean, have you ever faced any challenges?"

Suho paused, reflecting on her question. "To be honest, I haven't experienced it in the same way you have. My family's wealth shielded me from a lot of things. But that doesn't mean I'm oblivious to the challenges others face. I just... never had to confront them directly." He thought about Bexy, then his 3rd grade teacher who said, 'we don't need an English version for you.' and was quickly forced to correct their perspective when he got good grades and was smarter than most.

Zuri pondered his answer for a moment, her brush held aloft in one hand. She studied the canvas before her, a swirl of colors taking form beneath her hand.

After a pause, Suho spoke again, his voice a little hesitant.

"Zuri," he began.

She turned her attention to him, a hint of a smile dancing across her features. "Yeah?" she prompted, sensing the gravity in his tone.

He fiddled with his paintbrush, his nervousness evident in his movements. "There's... something I need to tell you. I just—"

The sound of the backdoor swinging open cut through the air, interrupting their conversation and drawing their attention. Zuri's mother stepped outside, her face beaming with delight and an impish gleam in her eye. Then the look faded when she saw them painting.

"Zuri come inside for a moment." Esha called out.

"Sure, give me a second, Mom," Zuri turned to Suho apologetically, and he gave a small nod in understanding. "I'll wait right here," he reassured her.

He watched as Zuri and her mom went inside and for the first time felt like someone cared about him and wanted to show him, this was true acceptance.

"Mom! Art brings so much joy and energy into my life. The freedom it allows me to explore, experiment and discover is something I just can't give up." Zuri reasoned, her voice thick with frustration. "Don't you see that?! It's a part of me, I need it to live!"

"Don't get dramatic, Zuri," Esha replied, a flash of annoyance crossing her face. "You're holding yourself back."

The sight sent a twinge of guilt through her as she realized how hard this must be for her parents to accept. "How?" Zuri was confused by her mother's perspective.

"If you gave yourself the chance to do something meaningful, to become an influential and successful woman like I don't know, Velma Scantlebury, Beyonce, Edith Irby Jones, it would open so many doors," Esha said matter-of-factly, leaving zero room for questioning.

"Mom, I'm not 16 anymore, I'm 23 and it's my dream," Zuri snapped, unable to keep the sharpness from her tone.

"Oh please, the adult in you better not be falling back because you don't want to be told what to do. In life you can either choose between dreams and expectations, but you can't do both. This is an adult, world. Where you have you have to fulfill what's expected of you." Esha shot back, her tone full of defiance and logic.

The familiar ache of hurt and guilt returned as Zuri looked at her parents' faces, but this time, they also mixed with a surprising streak of determination. They wanted her to be happy, but on their terms, their definitions of a successful life. And they weren't ready or willing to accept her version of what happiness, success and purpose meant to her.

But she wasn't going to back down without a fight. She felt it deep inside her - this was her life and her dreams. It was a matter of choice and compromise, but mostly courage. She inhaled a slow, deep breath, her heart thundering.

She opened her mouth and said, "Mom, you and Dad are my parents, and I love you. I love you guys. If you can't love me or accept me for who I am. The person that I'm turning out to be right now is not what you thought I should have been, if you don't love the art I make, if you don't support my passion for being an artist, if you don't respect the way I'm going about living the dream I have, then please, just let me be who I am. Please let me go. Accept it or don't. I am choosing to live for myself."

The words came tumbling out in a breathless rush, her heart racing in her chest. She stared at her mom, her expression unreadable, waiting. The room was eerily still for a moment, the tension almost palpable.

A slow, deliberate silence lingered, and then Esha broke into an approving grin and pulled her in for an enormous hug, "That's exactly the mature thing you need to be doing. You deserve to live the life you want to lead. I can't believe this. What's made you so confident?" she exclaimed as a smile crossed Zuri's face as the hug ended.

The two stood there smiling for a moment before they both walked outside of the kitchen. When Zuri exited the house, she was surprised to see Suho still sitting patiently and holding their canvases. She leaned in to give him an unexpected kiss before running her hands along his shoulders and stopping at his neck. Suho's body immediately tightened, and his breath hitched. He pulled away reluctantly, gazing deep into Zuri's eyes. She grinned widely and flashed a sweet smile.

Suho watched Zuri as she fell asleep, her head resting on his chest. They lay on a blanket beneath the vast expanse of stars, and a sense of tranquility filled the air. The crickets continued their nighttime serenade, and the world felt suspended in time.

Suho gazed at Zuri with awe, the moonlight bringing out the delicate curve of her jaw and her full lips. Her chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm, and he relished her familiar, comforting presence. He didn't want this moment to end, this sense of peace, safety, and wholeness.

He thought about the delicate nature of their relationship, how it had transformed from a simple arrangement into something much more profound. There was a sense of vulnerability in their connection, as if one wrong move could shatter the beauty they had found.

Suho didn't tell her about the looming inheritance issue. It seemed trivial now, overshadowed by the deeper emotions they were discovering. He stroked her hair gently, his heart filled with affection for this remarkable woman who had entered his life unexpectedly.

The night was silent, save for the soft sounds of nature. Suho held Zuri close, cherishing the moments they shared beneath the stars. He knew that their relationship was indeed delicate, but it was also something worth protecting and nurturing. The unspoken bond between them was growing stronger, and Suho couldn't help but wonder where it might lead.