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I walked quietly down the path that separated that golf course from the beautiful lake. The sun brightly casted it's way over the mountains and on the that said lake. No one was there, it was a Tuesday for crying out loud, who would be? But I was, my school bag was still gripped in my hand and a sad look dawned upon my face. Someone was there. He was sitting up against a tree, the breeze blowing his chocolaty brown hair out of his hazel eyes. He had a white sketch pad in his lap and he sketched the scene out before him.
I froze, I knew this boy. I believe his name is Britian, he was nice. I used to talk to him, way back when crayons were the only things that could make me cry. But now, I was almost 15 and he, well lets just say he had grown up. I brushed my shoulder length dark blond, almost brunette, hair behind my ear, and started my walk once again. I walked passed him, he turned his head and acknowledged me well. I waved, my fingers twitching, barely noticeable. But he noticed. I tried to keep my gaze set on the dock that was farther away then the one he sat sketching, but I soon saw it was full of giddy little kids fishing with their grandfathers.
Or something along those lines.
My pace slowed as I walked to a nearby tree that was only thirty or less feet away from Britian. I sat down, feeling the sand push up against my flip flops. I took them off and leaned back into a crook of the tree. The bark wasn't so inviting, but it was something I would have to deal with later. I felt his hazel orbs on me, just me. I hoped he wasn't going to sketch me next, but I just kept a straight face and dug through my school bag. Finally I found my one and only sketch book. It had loose papers hanging out of it, some school things, others were just notes that I had passed to keep myself entertained. I pushed my feet forward, the sand tickling my toes. I breathed in the sweet scent of spring and smiled, this was my favorite time of year.
I had opened to a fresh new page in my sketch book and ran my fingers across it, smoothing out creases and brushing off anything that had made it's way into the book. I felt my pencil beside me and grasped it, a little tense, hoping and pleading the boy had not set his gaze on me again. But I knew he did, I could feel his eyes staring through my existence as if I were just air brushing his face. I wasn't in any way, shape, or form. Now I brought my pencil up to the paper and started letting it dance. I would draw the scene before me, but like him, I would draw him against his tree, calm and sketching his own drawing. Looking up occasionally I drew the base of his body, then his shoulders, and soon his shaggy hair had been drawn. I drew his eyes, casted down on the paper that he drew on. Wind touching his face. He, surprisingly hadn't even spared a glance in my direction and stayed glued to his paper.
As soon as I drew the last line of his shoe detail he had stood up, and brushed the sand off of his black, straight leg jeans. I down cast my head slowly, so I am looking at my paper, comparing it to him.
Decent!
I smirked to myself, allowing the edges of my lips to curve upwards into a smirk. Suddenly I felt a presence next to my own, vibrating heat onto the sand and then my own body itself. I looked up, placing a hand over the drawing, attempting to hide it. He stood, staring at me and then where my hand was and smiled slightly. I had froze.
"Hello..." I muttered quietly, almost inaudibly but he just nodded.
"I wanted to get your face perfectly..." He mumbled, I was drawn aback. Was he drawing me? He flipped his sketchbook around and there I was. Sitting in the sand, clad in jean shorts and a large t-shirt that had covered up my bikini I wore under neath. He had gotten every single detail. I couldn't think straight, I had probably stopped breathing five minutes ago. The only thing I was missing in the drawing was eyes, and lips. He touched my head and pointed down, "Go back to drawing... I just need to finish..." he practically whispered. I nodded slowly and ducked my head down, assuming this was the position I was in before. I could hear his pencil dancing across the paper, shading and drawing carefully.
As soon as I let a breath in, he was done. I heard him walking away, his footsteps leaving prints in the sand. "Thank you..." I could hear him mutter, but a "your welcome" never escaped my lips. I could feel a light pink blush paint it's way across my cheeks.
Was it possible to be in love with a complete stranger?
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Okay so this was pretty much just a random story about my life and how I wish and prey this will happen to me with my neighbor Britian... I've gone completely insane over him and I haven't talked to him since I was in preschool, or maybe even before that.
<3 <3 <3
;] Byeee
Carly H
 Intoxicated Galaxies · Thu Jun 03, 2010 @ 01:27am · 0 Comments |
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