It was a good day. Warm with a cool breeze and not very sunny so your clean white paper did not blind you. You set yourself up on a bench in a nearby park, preparing your pencils. You flip open your sketch book to another white page. As you look around for a subject to draw, your eyes catch sight of a young man. He had blonde hair tied in a ponytail. His bangs were parted in the middle with a single curl hanging down. A pair of dark sunglasses hung on the tip of his nose, purple eyes peering over them. A hockey stick, the end wrapped in barb wire, laid at his boots.
He sat at the edge of a fountain nearby, slouching, a lost and empty look across his face. You watched him curiously for a few moments before you quickly looked down at your page, your pencil moving across the white paper as if possessed.
You had a quick sketch and basic details of his body before you noticed him staring at you. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, wide eyed. He slowly gets up, reaching down and picking up his hockey stick.
'Uh oh...' you thought as you placed your sketch book down and stood up, ready to apologize. He seemed very intimidating though, how he glared at you with his violet eyes.
You both stood there for a moment before the man slings his threatening hockey stick over his shoulder and calmly walks away.
You felt a little relieved that there was no trouble but you felt a little disappointed that he just left without a word. He was very charming, despite his scary appearance. You look down at your sketch book and turn to the page you were working on.
'Should have worked on his face first...' You mentally scolded yourself. You hoped you can see him again, you wanted to finish drawing him. There was a certain loneliness around him that you wanted to figure out.
A few days later, you came back to the park and sat back down on the same bench you sat on days ago. You began sketching a few birds that had landed not too far from you. As you continued to sketch, almost complete with the picture, the birds abruptly flew away. You pout and look up to see what had shooed them off.
Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the man from before. He was walking towards the same fountain and sat down, slouching in almost an identical fashion from the other day.
You didn't hesitate and quickly flipped back to the unfinished page. You furiously began to draw, trying to capture all his features before he notices you again.
After a few moments he slips his sunglasses over his eyes and lays on the fountain's edge, seeming to take a nap.
'Chance!' You mentally thought to yourself and flipped to a new page, drawing the new scene before you.
You had finished a fairly good sketch before the man stirred, sitting up. He lowers his sunglasses and glares over at you. He stands and grabs his hockey stick once again but instead of walking away as he did the day before, he started to head over to you, his hockey stick dragging across the ground.
You gulped, looking away. You were a little ashamed that you just drew him without his permission regardless of the look he gave you before.
He looms over you and stares down at you.
"U-Um...." you nervously began but stopped when you felt his hockey stick pull down your sketch book from you hands so that he could see it.
His purple eyes examine the sketch you had done of him for a moment before he mutters, "you're pretty good...." He had an accent in his voice, which you guessed was a Canadian one.
You blush a little and shyly smile. "T-Thanks. I'm sorry I did it without permission." You slowly stand up, placing the sketch book to the side and extend your hand out to him. "I'm ______ _____."
He looks down at your hand for a moment before looking into your (e/c) eyes. He takes your hand hesitantly but give it a tight grip. "Matt..."
"Nice to meet you, Matt." you smile, trying to match his grip. This made the corner of his lips twitch into a smile from a moment but soon returns back into a frown. "Have we met before? You kinda look familiar."
Matt's eyebrows furrow as his face contorts a little from your question.
You thought about where you could have seen him for a moment but shake your head, chuckling a little. "Sorry, I must be imagining things."
"What, did you mistaken me for someone?" He growled a little.
"What? No." you nervously laugh. "It probably was my imagination. You're kinda unforgettable."
Matt's eyes widen a little as he is taken back by your comment. "Unforgettable?"
"Yeah." You bashfully smile and blush, looking to the side. "I had the urge to draw you since I saw you the other day. I guess I was attracted to you, you had this very lonely air about you." Matt looks away, glaring at the ground and you realize how rude that sounded. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way! I just wanted to know more about you since I saw you and I guess that's why I wanted to draw you." There was an awkward silence between you two and you sighed, turning away and collecting your things. "I'm really sorry."
As you picked up you things and began to leave, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You look over your shoulder in surprise to see Matt. "Will you be here again?" He asked, avoiding your gaze. A pink tint was across his face.
You stood there in silence before giggling and nodding to the embarrassed Canadian. "If you want. Can I draw you again?"
"We'll see..." He mumbled before letting you go. He reaches a hand into his pocket and slips out his cell phone. His cheeks turn a deeper red as he asks you, flustered, "Give me your number and I'll text you mine..." You look at him surprised and he quickly added, furrowing his brows, "W-well, I don't want to wait for a long time for you to show up!"
"OK OK!" You laughed as you quickly took out your cell phone as well. You exchanged cell phone numbers and slipped it back into your pocket. You waved to the flustered Canadian, giggling, "I'll see you later then, Matt!"
He looks away as you run off, angrily looking at the ground but once you have disappeared behind the buildings outside the park, slowly his lips curled into a smile. "Later." He whispered to himself and slings his hockey stick over his shoulder. He walks off, looking forward to seeing the Artist once again.