TSV oneshots

Artist

He had only barely sat down in the soft, green grass under the tree that provided him with just enough shade to survive the burning sun. The sky was blue with some of those almost pink looking cotton clouds on it that made it look like the heavens were painted above them. Just the kind he needed to get inspired.

The spot he chose for today's sketching practice was a large park with lots of greenery and a stone fountain with a sculpture of Eros, the Greek god of love, in the centre. At least that's what the little bronze plaque had said as he walked past.

After avoiding what obviously was the most sketch-worthy spot of the small town he was visiting for the summer, he had finally decided on his very last day there that it would be an awful shame if he didn't at least try to capture the way the sun glimmered in the surface of the water and the curves of the stone carvings framing everything.

It was truly a beautiful fountain, and it was the main reason Eddy had chosen this spot under the tree to draw. He wasn't interested in the people walking past, and not in the little pigeons landing on the edge of it. He wanted to recreate the beautiful stone creation that was incredibly slowly being scraped away by the water it was made to display.

At least he wasn't interested in the people until he showed up. A guy that had to be at least half a head shorter than himself who strolled up the light gravel path like he had no worries in the world. A guy whose hair ruffled slightly as a light breath of wind moved it and somehow still looked like he had just stepped out from the hairdresser. His steps in the gravel were carefree, but he knew where he was going.

It was almost annoying how well he fit into the scene, too. How the sunlight hit his face just right and made his eyes sparkle and enhanced his already beautiful face shape by casting shadows in all the right places.

Eddy knew he had to sketch him, even though people never had been his strongest skill. Somehow, sketching this man who was leaning on the fountain and enjoying a bubble tea felt like the most natural thing in the entire world to him.

He got so into his art while the scene of their meeting played in his head like a scene out of a romance book. He'd go up to him, offer his hand and introduce himself.

"Hi, I'm Eddy, I'm an artist. Sorry to disturb you on this wonderful day, but I saw you standing there and couldn't help but to sketch you."

Then he would offer the guy the sketch with a cheeky smile, though he knew realistically that he never was as suave in real life as he was in his imagination.

"I would like to offer you this in exchange for your number, please."

Unfortunately though, by the time the sketch was finished the man was gone.

...

Ten years later and the young aspiring artist had become a professional artist with a traveling exhibition. The pieces for the exhibition varied some between the different places he went, but one sketch he had made years ago was always the center piece. It was the piece that had made his dream of making a living from his art possible, the sketch of the man by the fountain.

Eddy was always nervous before letting in the crowds to view his art, but today was even more special. He was back in the town with the fountain in a gallery only a short walk from the park, and his nerves were through the roof. This place was special, and he could feel the magic of it just like he had ten years ago.

Ten minutes later and the doors opened to the initial crowd that had waited outside the door. He had made a name for himself, and for the size of the town the counter by the door was impressed with the number of people. Most of the crowd headed directly for the center piece of the show, while nine or eight people hung back to get a closer look at the seven pieces at the front. Six of them depicted various other fountains, five which were in the neighbouring towns he had visited following the inspiration he had gotten the summer he sketched his most famous piece of art.

Eddy scanned the crowd with the smile he always kept on his face during show despite already having received four critical comments. He only really agreed with three of them, though. Most of the other comments were positive, though a lot of people asked why only the picture with the fountain had a person in it when he clearly drew people really well based on that one image. Nobody knew or realized how well Eddy could picture the man in his mind, how many times he had recreated the original painting. The man by the fountain was the only human he had ever been able to sketch.

After the first two hours, most of the people had left. There were still a few groups scattered around the gallery, but the people who wanted to talk to him had already done so. Maybe this was the time to grab some lunch?

There were only one security guard left in the gallery when he finally grabbed his jean jacket in the back room. He expected no more people to show up until the evening fell and the evening crowd and the art critics would be there.

At least that's what he thought until the little bell on the door sounded and the echoes of a singular person entering the gallery bounced off the walls. Eddy heard the silky smooth voice asking the security guard if they were still open, and his heart skipped a few beats.

He had intended to head out the back door for lunch, but he couldn't help getting drawn to the voice. It felt almost like he knew it, like he had heard it every day of his life despite never having heard it before.

Nothing in the world could possibly have prepared the poor artist for the moment his art came to life in front of him. Behind him was the sketch he had made in teh shadow under the tree by the fountain ten years ago, the sketch of the guy who now was standing in front of him looking just like he had back then. He didn't seem to have changed at all, like he hadn't aged a day.

"You're the artist, aren't you?" the guy asked him once he noticed him staring, snapping Eddy out of the pink clouds his thoughts had formed in his head.

"I am," Eddy confirmed, blinking a few times. Was he dreaming? Was he still under the blue sky sketching this man? Had he imagined his whole life?

"I see you have drawn me?" the guy pointed out, nodding to the sketch in the frame on the wall. The center piece of his art, the reason he was still doing this. No, he wasn't dreaming.

"I saw you by the fountain and couldn't help but sketch you," Eddy admitted, stepping aside so the guy could see it better. "You completed the scene perfectly."

"I'm honoured, truly. The sketch is beautiful."

"You can have it, if you want," the artist heard himself say while the model admired his messy handiwork from nervous skribbling. Eddy still saw the white and grey image in full colour like he was still there experiencing it, but he remembered how he regretted not having his water colours with him, or his coloured pencils.

"Seriously? I cannot possibly take it. How would I repay you for something like this?" the man laughed, shaking his head and messing up his hair the same way the wind had done for the sketch.

"You can give me your number, and meet me by the fountain in an hour. Do you still like bubble tea?"

"I do, yes. I'm Brett Yang, by the way. Nice to meet you," the man by the fountain said, offering his hand. Eddy took it, making a note of wanting to make art of this part of the man as well.

"I'm Eddy Chen, and you have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you for taking my offer."