Heterochromic Haze

2- Caffeine soundtrack

For the next few days I avoid Amyas' curious gaze, keeping my head down but my hands are clumsy and useless with distraction.

"Ledge? Ledger?" Amyas calls and I finally pay attention, snapping out of my haze. It's finally Friday and I find I can't wait for some time alone.

"I asked if you had any plans for the weekend?" Amyas says pleasantly, his expression calm and ever patient.

"Oh, no. Just sketching." I say quickly.

I choose to avoid mentioning that the subject of my sketches will be his brother.

Amyas' brow furrows and I sigh.

"I know, I know, I don't usually like pencil sketches but I'm sort of getting into them." I admit, fidgeting with my thumb nail.

"No, it's not that. I thought you had a date this evening?" He says and I groan out loud.

Fuck. I had forgotten that I'd agreed to that.

"It's just coffee." I mutter, cursing myself for ever agreeing in the first place.

I had only said yes because he got that glittery, starry eyed look that people get when they hear you're an artist. They either want free art or they have a titanic fantasy. It's usually the latter. Dating in general isn't really my scene, and people know that. I hear what they say about me, what they think, and I don't lead them to think any differently. Attraction for me is intense, all encompassing and ultimately, fleeting. Doesn't stop people thinking they'll be the one to change me.

"I'm sure it'll be good." Amyas says quietly and I scoff.

"I'm sure. What about you?" I ask, desperate to take my mind off my impending date.

"My brother has a game so I said I'd go and watch." Amyas says and I nod, frowning to myself.

Walter doesn't sound like the type to play sports, so he must be talking about Everett.

"What does Everett study?" I ask casually, ignoring Amyas' grin.

"He's doing maths and mechanical engineering. He's actually pretty smart." Amyas says and I pull a face.

Fancy spending all that money and learning about maths. No thanks.

I glance at the clock and feel my expression sink further, knowing that if I ever hope to be on time for coffee, I should leave now.

I sigh heavily, packing up my equipment sluggishly.

"I'll see you later. Wish me luck." I mutter, leaving Amyas' low chuckle behind me.

I sling my bag onto my back before shoving my portfolio between me and my bag. I make my way to the cafe, grimacing slightly when I note the clay on my green trousers.

I suppose it's better for him to know the truth now. I have clay on me more often than not.

The grey clouds above me look ominous and I quietly curse when it starts to rain. I run the rest of the way, thankful that my portfolio is safe within its plastic carrier. The rest of my stuff though? Less waterproof.

I swing my way into the cafe, shaking my loose waves as I rake them out of my eyes.

I spot him in a cozy corner, with what looks like a hot chocolate cupped between his hands. I keep my face blank. Maybe I'm a masochist, but I find no enjoyment in anything other than black coffee.

"Hey, Ledger!" He says and I freeze momentarily, racking my brain for his name.

I walk over to him slowly, my palms sweating.

"Hey...you. Sorry I'm late, got caught in the rain." I mumble, smiling sheepishly.

Seriously, what the fuck is his name?

"That's alright. You pull off the rain, anyone else would look ridiculous." He says sweetly. I sit down opposite him, opening my mouth to reply when I lose all train of thought.

Everett walks through the doors of the cafe, his brown hair even darker as it clings to the sides of his head. He runs a hand through it carelessly, his biceps flexing with every movement.

The t-shirt he's wearing sticks to him like a second skin and my eyes drink him in, memorising every enticing curve of his sinful physique.

I swallow harshly when his eyes meet mine, but I don't dare look away.

His eyes dart to the guy in front of me before looking away, walking to the counter and out of my view.

The guy in front of me is silent, watching me with a frown and I force a smile.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" I ask breathlessly.

"Do you know that guy?" He asks hotly and I smile.

"He's my friend's brother." I say and for some reason that makes him smile.

"Oh, I thought he was someone important." He says and I frown, my fingers clenching at the insinuation that the most beautiful man I've ever seen is anything less than vital.

My eyes catch Everett's frame as he crosses the cafe, choosing a table in the corner across from us. A large lamp shines over his head, casting a wonderful shadow across his face. I itch to draw what's in front of me, desperate to not let this opportunity pass me by. I wonder what he's doing here...

"You're an artist, aren't you?" The guy opposite me says and I nod absently.

"That's fascinating, I've always wanted to be sketched." He adds and I draw my eyes back to him, scrutinising for a second. 

His features are what I can only describe as plain. His nose is small and rounded at the end, his eyes an ordinary hazel that meld into his brunet hair. The longer I look at his features, the more that I am reminded that there is nothing there, to like or dislike.

Absolutely not.

After an awkward pause, my gaze trails back to Everett. I wonder what he's ordered, whether he enjoys hot chocolates or something stronger. I purse my lips, wondering why the hell that would matter, and why I want to know? It's his body that interests me. His facial structure, not his choice of hot beverage."So, what do you do for fun?" My date asks and I frown, dragging my eyes back to him.

"What?" I ask and he frowns.

"Fun? Do you have any hobbies?" He asks pleasantly and I shake my head. I don't have time for hobbies.

"Oh, well I like playing video games, and I know what you're thinking..."

I tune out almost immediately, the horror on my face clearly not enough to stop the guy in front of me talking about video games.

My eyes drift back towards Everett, my focus utterly lost to the image in front of me. I lean forwards slowly, dragging out my sketchbook and a pencil as I watch the steam of his drink drifting upwards in the tunnel of light, contrasting so beautifully with his dark features. I can only see his brown eye from this angle, and the entire image is comforting, the scent of coffee my background music.

I'm faintly aware of the sky darkening. A chair scrapes loudly across the floor. The voice that wouldn't cease is long gone and my aching back is the only signifier of how long I have sat sketching the man in the corner.

If he notices, he doesn't say anything. In fact he doesn't even look my way and for that I'm glad. He sits perfectly still, with the exception of a sip from his drink and I can't help but appreciate what a wonderful model he'd be.

Eventually he stands up and I flip my book closed, leaning back as I watch him leave.

My... obsession with this man, this adonis, is unnatural. It doesn't feel like my usual infatuations. This is real, igniting a wonderful passion that I've been lacking for so long. He thrills me, he pushes me, he infuriates me. But I can't leave him be.

I don't know how to stay away from him. I don't want to stay away from him, and it frightens me.