Aesthetic

WINSLOW HOMER: THE GULF STREAM

I feel you, fisherman.

Struggling against the sea

just how i'm battling my feelings.

Did you find help, fisherman?

Was there a rescue boat

to save you?

"Well, well, well.

If it isn't

Mr. Evan Carter."

I didn't even have to turn

to know who it was.

Lydia.

I recognized her voice

as quick as a wink.

There she stood.

Her mixed brunette-blonde hair

in a messy bun,

the beige sundress that fit her

like a crown fits a queen,

and her face.

That gorgeous face.

Those pale green eyes

that knife through my armor

that is my heart.

Hello Miss. beautiful Lydia Siegel.

"Oh, stop it, I just finished working

my brain out for three ridiculous finals.

I'm far from beautiful, can't you see the

heavy eye bags?"

She walks over,

and stands next to me.

Oh Lydia,

your beauty is like a

light in the dark.

Everyone wants to follow it

and have some shine on their dull lives.

"Winslow Homer, huh?

Are you analyzing it or relating to the guy?"

Lydia reads me like a book,

but I hope she doesn't read

the bad history.

Relating.

"Are you struggling with something, Evan?"

Something about the way Lydia

understands the art and I.

I keep falling for this girl.

Deeply.

It was a pit

I wanted to fall into.

Back to her question,

I wanted to tell her:

the kiss with Paloma,

the devil who came back into my life,

and most importantly,

the way I felt about her.

Lydia, isn't it too early?

I don't want to scare you away.

"Did you kill someone

and now you are struggling

with the thoughts and guilt?"

Both of us laugh

but I know for a fact,

my smile was bigger than hers

would ever be.

However, my laugh slowly stops,

when she intertwines her

soft delicate hand

with my rough one.

"Is it okay if I can hold on

to you for a second?"

Try forever.