In a quiet town surrounded by mango trees and soft evening winds, there lived a boy named Jimmy and a girl named Thelma — two souls whose hearts were painted in the same shade of destiny.
Their story began in the corridors of their school, where laughter echoed through cracked classroom walls and dreams were still learning to walk.
Jimmy was gentle and thoughtful — never the loudest, but always the kindest. Thelma, with her warm smile and soft voice, had an artist's heart. She could turn even a blank sheet into something beautiful.
They first met in the art room, a small place filled with colors, brushes, and the faint scent of paint. Thelma would stay behind after class to finish her art projects, and Jimmy — always willing to help — joined her.
What began as a simple act of kindness turned into something far deeper.
They would stay there for hours, sometimes late into the evening, painting side by side. Their laughter filled the air like music, and every brushstroke carried a piece of their growing affection.
Jimmy would help Thelma mix colors, and she would smile whenever their hands accidentally touched. Each painting they made became a memory — a silent story written without words. Every stroke of the brush told them one thing: love was being born between them.