His Muse

part four.

I'm not quite sure how I went two weeks without reading a single word of a romance novel.

I grew up on them, I practically need them in order to survive.

Or, I did, until the words got in my head.

Until the scenes got so detailed in my imagination that my head imagined I was a part of one.

I don't think I knew how beautiful New York was until these two weeks.

I have never been outside more.

The Victorian style of the townhouses.

The bright colors remind me of the couch in the library.

I haven't stepped foot in the library in two weeks.

I am definitely overreacting, I know that.

But the way his eyes moved over me.

God, his eyes.

I forget how bright blue eyes can be.

How the inner ring can look so electric.

The entire thing, like you're drowning in an ocean.

But floating in the sky.

All at the same time.

The way my heart rate picked up the second I saw him.

The way I could feel the need in his eyes.

The way his eyes swept over my body countless times, as if he couldn't get enough of me.

The way my body lit on fire under his gaze.

I could feel his eyes burning me I swear.

When I close my eyes I see him.

Well, his eyes.

But it never happened.

I only told myself it did.

It's so easy to forget what I'm doing.

To forget to grab the milk for my cereal.

To forget my bag when I leave.

All because I cannot stop seeing him.

His eyes.

His hands.

His hair.

Him.

My breath hitches when I remember the way he looked at me.

It physically hurts to remember.

It gives me a headache to keep the tears from falling.

There's a burn in the back of my throat because I just want to scream.

Sometimes I just leave.

I go on walks a lot now.

The beauty of the city is practically medicine.

It's the townhouses like these that make me forget.

It's the endless cars driving on the street.

It's the small shops that surround the city.

It looks like something that deserves to be drawn.

It's the feeling of being in this city, I wish everyone could feel.

It deserves to be captured beautifully.

The beautiful skyline.

The beautiful skyline?

Why is there a beautiful skyline?

Right there.

In a window.

On the first floor of a building.

Wait.

Is that me?

The beautiful skyline..?

Behind the bright purple couch?

A girl on the couch?

My shoes practically screech with how abruptly I stop.

Anyone that sees me right now would assume I'm being creepy.

Staring into someone's window.

Staring at the painting they've hung.

I did stand there for approximately ten seconds seconds.

I don't think I've ever run so fast.

Sprinting up the stairs.

Pounding on the door.

Though I am standing in the bright sun, a chill passes over my entire body.

It probably isn't him.

I made it up.

It was two weeks ago.

I made it all up.

It is definitely not important that he was drawing, and now there is a painting.

A painting that is most definitely not me.

It is just one big coincidence that it happens to be in that exact library.

That exact view of the couch.

The exact position I was in.

Hopelessly gazing at him.

It is also one big coincidence that right as his eyes swept to my face, I left.

It didn't even happen.

I am about to be so embarrassed that I just desperately pounded on someone's door.

All because I think, no, I hope fate is on my side.

He wasn't there when I looked that final time.

It didn't even happen.

Oh my god, what is so difficult about opening a door?

I really hope it isn't him because I do not want to be with him if he takes this long to open a door.

This house is probably vacant.

The painting was just there to draw potential buyers in.

I'm leaving.

God, his eyes.

I close my eyes, holding back tears.

I open them when I finally get his eyes out of my mind.

But when I open them,

I am met with his eyes.

Again.

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AN: It's coming to an end yall.. Making me all emotional again ahh!