I belong to him {buckyxreader}

29~ Empty canvas

I woke up this morning feeling a little happier than yesterday, No matter how much I denied it I knew I really needed that talk with Nat.

I decided I wanted to paint something today, so I got up and walked over to my small art room and picked up one of my larger canvases, placing it on the easel at the back of the room. I spent hours trying to think of something to paint, anything- but my mind for once was blank, so instead I decided to make breakfast and try again later. I made two fried eggs and two pieces of toast and spread it with butter- my favourite. My mother used to make it for me every morning on the weekends and if I was lucky, every now and then I had it on school mornings.

For a good hour I tried to come up with something for my painting, I tried everything- but still nothing, I stared at the empty canvas for a while before realising I probably just needed some fresh air so I placed the canvas in my bag along with a jam jar full with water and a couple of paint brushes and various different colours of acrylic paints.

It's was 1 o'clock in New York- the perfect time for painting because everyone was eating lunch in the park with their loved ones, lots of inspiration. I sat myself down at a small park bench next to a family of four eating a homemade picnic, they had the biggest smiles on their faces. Everyone was so joyful, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a couple on the side walk holding hands and laughing, it made me miss him, his touch but I shouldn't miss him- I can't. I needed to focus on art.

I opened up my bag pulling out all the paints and brushes placing them beside me on the bench. The immediate feel of the fresh air and freedom made my head light up with ideas as my hand painted patterns and shapes over the white, covering it up with the most mesmerising blues and greens. The sun peeked through the branches of the trees above my head, shadows dancing across the ground.

I sat in the park for a few hours thinking of ways to add to the painting to make it better but in the end I decided what I created was enough. I hadn't looked up in a while for I was too enchanted by the colours of my work to notice that almost everyone in the park had gone home, just a few parents with their little children were left and two friends enjoying each other's company.

As I packed up my things and started to walk home down the pavement to my apartment, I noticed a dark, muscular figure leaning up against the window of a small music shop on the corner of the street staring straight in my direction- his hair and part of his face covered up with a black hood and he had his hands placed in his pockets. I glanced at the stranger but quickly looked away, I didn't want him to see me- I couldn't help but look back and just like that he was gone- disappearing into the crowd of people.