𝐋'𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐔 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄 / 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋

⋆ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ⋆

⋆ ☬ ⋆

chapter two
「shermar」

shermar was leaning back on a weathered bench as if it were a throne. the winter morning bit into his skin, wrapping him in a cold embrace as he smeared oil pastels across the pages of his sketch book. his lean frame sheltered by a dark wool coat, his face shadowed by the usual beanie pulled low over his eyes, shielding him from the wind.

around him, the park was a painting colored with muted grays and dried-out browns, the sky a somber blue, veiled by thick white clouds. a light dusting of snow drifted down, the flakes landing on every surface with a soft, almost imperceptible whisper. the air was crisp and clean, the scent of pine wafting around as children played in the snow.

despite the bitter cold of november, life filled the surrounding area. the distant hum of traffic droned on in the background. cyclists sped past, their bells chiming brightly as children ran and laughed, piercing the frosty air with a collective sense of peace and joy.

from his vantage point, shermar had a view of the entire park. the landscape was dotted with clusters of trees, their branches heavy with snow. balsam fir trees, with their dense, green needles, provided a splash of color amidst the white. the lake, usually bustling with geese, lay still and frozen, a smooth sheet of ice reflecting the pale winter sky.

a group of teenagers huddled around a makeshift ice rink, their skates carving patterns into the ice. joggers braved the cold, their breath visible in the crisp air, while an elderly couple fed birds near a the large windmill near the water.

as his gaze wandered, it settled on a large group of parents and their children arriving at the playground. they were bundled in large coats and hats, hands fitted with thick gloves, their excited chattering piquing his interest.

among them was a woman and her son. the boy was small, bouncing in her arms as she parked his stroller behind the bench. she adjusted his scarf and hat so that they covered his ears. his coat was a fiery orange, impossible to ignore.

for a while, shermar had mostly scribbled rosy pinks and pastel blues across the foreground, the smudged blobs representing the coats of those that passed by. occasionally there was the odd green number, a few taupes and browns, florescent yellow... but he hadn't yet seen orange.

he picked up an orange oil pastel from the tin container sitting beside him. it was soft, melting in the tips of his fingers.

he glanced back at them through his lashes, preparing to press the crayon into the page. the woman's laughter carried through the air, slithering through his ears and bouncing through his skull, dulcet like the most beautiful song he had ever heard.

shermar cocked his head to the side, watching as she sat the little boy on the ground, using her hands to sign something to him. her demeanor was stern and the boy nodded quickly, clearly ready to take off with the rest of the children in the group.

'is she deaf? is he?' he quickly wiped the color across the page. questions whirred in his mind as he drew an orange blur running by, boasting a cheeky smile.

the children broke off into smaller groups, some playing tag, others throwing dirty snowballs. a few of the older kids attempted to build an army of snowmen, though they weren't turning out well.

the little boy in orange made his way to his friends, sticking his small foot into the circle they formed. they did the ritual of picking who'd be 'it''.

"kayla's it!" another small brunette girl yelled, and all the kids darted in different directions.

the boy was quick to react, though he became kayla's first target.