J-Hope One Shots

Phantom Muse

I sat seated in a small cafe, a wooden table in front of me the carefully crafted legs brushing against the head of my converse. A small journal was placed in my lap consisting of a worn out binding from regular use, and scribbles. With every slight twitch, my hand made, the pen in my hand fidgeted also. Oblivious to the journal edging its way off my skirt and onto the hard tiled floor, I gaze intently at my surroundings, silently observing and watching other people, they animatedly discuss things, hustling off to full filled their busy schedules planned, or just lazily lounging around in the cozy cafe.

If there was one thing I had to choose in which was my favorite of this cafe, it would most defiantly be it's cozy, homey atmosphere. People from all over town, even a few tourists having made their way here, take with them a little piece of comfort with them in their travels. The adventurers, usually brimming with energy and fast passed to fit everything in find stillness in this small cafe, while they enter in through the door stiff and curious, they very quickly become the ones happily sinking in some bean bags their mind happily indulging in the peaceful atmosphere.

My fellow regulars come... Regularly of course, and even though we come often and hesitantly leave at some point in the day, we never truthfully tire of this cherished place. And then...there is me, my schedule is not unsavory, and quite simple, one small to medium drink, maybe a scone or treat if I am feeling really frisky, and then... I...observe. Observe the decor lining the walls of the building, observe the faces of those who come in this building, those with wrinkles and those with none. I observe, in hope of one thing, and one thing only, inspiration.

My journal in which I open and draw in frequently contains the drawings of my creations, my art, my fashion. While I may be a newbie, to say the least, I am dedicated to finding and creating an original work each week, with the only requirements being it has to A.) Be finished or almost finished by the week is over, and or B.) I have to like it. Though, while it may seem simple on paper...sometimes it gives you more than a few hair tugs before all is all said and done with.

So there I sit, my face blank as my eyes travel over face from face of the passerby desperately looking for some sort of muse, whether a person or inanimate object, when my eyes catch something.
HIM. Immediately I reach for my journal, not daring take my eyes off my wondrous muse, on which to only find my hands coming up with nothing within their grasps. Frustrated, I huff, looking down to find my journal in the floor papers and all sprawled out.

"Why must you mock and patronize me at an important time like this!" I grumble quickly snatching up everything in my arms.

Once everything is finally back in the book, and the book itself in my hot little hands, I look back up searching for his face within the crowd.

........

"Aish," I finally breathe out, sighing in defeat.

He's gone, like the wind he might be there, but to my eyes...I see nothing.

I crumple to the table my head banging on the soft wood when all the sudden I see shoes. HIS shoes! Latching on to that limb with all that is in me, I run out of the shop into the crowd trying to catch those shoes. For those shoes... might just possibly lead me to my muse.

'Nice shoes, Mister,' I silently think to myself, as I chase after my saving grace.

Just then those pristine shoes change directions and I lose sight of them.

'I try to force my legs to move more quickly, 'COME ON, LEGS!! Don't fail me now!'

And like that, my saving grace disappeared.

"AISH!" I yell frustrated, ignoring the weird looks from my fellow people passing by. "Lost him again, and... I didn't even get to drink my last swig of tea...it was delicious...heh, defiantly ordering that again."