Writing's Second Taste

Chapter Four: This Feeling

"I give up!" I groaned, throwing my head back as I dropped the pen on the table. Every single phrase that I managed to jot down on the paper all faced the same fate – they were all crossed out.

Emma jumped a bit at my sudden outburst, causing the paintbrush on her hand to slide down on the canvass she was working on. She gasped before turning to me and I shot her an apologetic look.

Shrugging, she squeezed on some white paint onto her palette before she calmly fixed the sudden slipup I've caused.

"Take a break for now, Sienna," Uncle Levi chuckled before waving his keycard in front of me, "Come on, the delivery man's already in the lobby."

Glancing towards his daughter, she nodded before gesturing for me to follow him. With a sigh, I pushed myself up before I trailed after my uncle as he clicked the door open and held it for me.

"So any progress?" he questioned, pressing the down button when we reached the front of the elevator. My silence was enough of an answer for him so he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "That's alright."

No, it wasn't. sure I shouldn't expect instant results, especially since classes haven't even started yet, but my frustration with myself was constantly growing.

We stepped inside the shaft and we slowly descended through the building, the digital screen showing the floors we passed. My foot tapped against the metal floor as I hummed a made-up tune, drumming my fingers at my side.

Uncle quickly peeked towards my direction before he laughed under his breath, shaking his head in amusement.

"What?" I questioned, stopping my movements.

"You really are like your mother," he chuckled, gesturing to my whole body, "You're restless when something doesn't go perfectly."

I was about to protest but the metal doors opened. He gave me a slight push and led me out, already spotting the delivery man with our food. Uncle waved his hand towards him, taking out his wallet from his back pocket and I followed behind.

The glass door of the building opened, causing me to quickly glance towards its direction out of habit. I went back to the task at hand and slowly, the face of the person that entered registered in my head. Doing a double take at the familiar figure, his name escaped my lips, "Adam?"

The man paused after I called him out and he looked around the lobby. His eyes finally settled on me and he blinked first before he finally recognized me as well, "Sienna!"

Even thought the only time I've seen him was during that flight, it was enough to commit his appearance into my memory. I could picture him with his tussled brunette hair and warm brown eyes right below those thick but groomed eyebrows. He wore an oversized gray jacket over his plain white shirt and a pair of jeans during the flight. A pair of headphones were wrapped around his neck yet he never used them during the whole travel, mostly because he was busy distracting me.

Just saying, if you write your life experiences, you start to remember the little things.

Now, he was in a light blue pullover and black gym shorts, his feet being protected by a pair of black and white Nike shoes, but nothing else has changed aside from his clothing. Heck, he even had a pair of headphones with him.

"I thought we were living on different sides of the country," I said, remembering his message last night, "Fancy meeting you here."

He chuckled, nodding his head, "Same here, I just moved in though."

I blinked towards him before looking around the posh lobby. When I meant posh, I really did mean don't-even-look-at-me-peasant posh – from the crystal chandelier to the fancy furniture strategically placed around. Like I said earlier, I knew that this place was expensive and I was well aware that my Uncle had the money to house his family here, but since Adam said that he moved in, then that meant...