muse//phan

flowers

when the bell at the cafe door chimed, dan didn't even bother to look up. the brunette was sketching a pot of flowers that was located in the corner, tongue poking out of his mouth intently as he erased a large portion of the sketch. "fuck," he mumbled, glancing back up at the flowers. he'd been working on this drawing for days- something about those flowers was just hard to capture. sure, maybe he would get a flawless image of them, but the essence of them? his drawing seemed cold, distant even- everything had come out that way lately. dan wasn't sure what exactly to pin it on. maybe it was justin, or the fact that his ex-boyfriend still plagued his thoughts, or maybe it was just another reason why dan was a failure. he sighed as he started drawing a faint outline of the leaves and blossoms, for the fourth time in the past two hours. sure, artists couldn't always draw exactly what they wanted, but these fucking flowers, these wimpy ass petals in this run-down fucking coffee shop weren't doing anything  for him. they were just a reminder of how he had no reason to continue. whether continue meant the drawing, his career, or his life, dan had no clue. it scared him a little- he didn't want to die, he just couldn't find a means to go on lately.

or so he thought. he was slightly obsessed with a regular customer- louise had told him that the man's name was phil. dan wasn't quite sure why he was so drawn to him, but he wasn't quite sure of lots of things lately. like those flowers. why couldn't he get them right? he could draw literally anything with little flaw, except for the god damn flowers. "fuck flowers..." he muttered irritably before flipping to a new page in his sketchbook- perhaps he'd finish the flowers someday, or perhaps they would just remain unfinished, a constant reminder of what dan needed and couldn't seem to find. there was nothing quite like leaving something unfinished, and the fact that he had abandoned the sketch made dan uneasy. or, at least, would have if he wasn't too busy looking at the man who had just walked in. he smiled softly to himself, watching as the raven-haired man walked up to the counter and smiled kindly at louise. something about phil had almost a calming effect on him- the name seemed to bounce around his head rather often, and the man's bright blue eyes invaded his thoughts.

maybe it was the fact that he was like a polar opposite of justin- justin was all blonde, shaggy hair with dark brown eyes and tan skin, freckles dusting his cheekbones and shoulders from how much sun he got. how he'd gotten so much in london, dan still had no clue of. but phil was something different. sharp, defining features with happy eyes, dark hair (dyed, as dan had noticed... not that it mattered,) and pale skin. he would compare it to silk, or snow or something, but that was pretentious and stupid. he was just phil. just phil.

about a minute and three quarters into him staring, phil turned around. he'd sat down at a table in the back a few seconds earlier, and it seemed that dan had finally caught his attention. his heart practically fluttered when phil smiled and waved to him, though dan just waved back and shook off the feeling.

not that it mattered, as he seemed to think often. the feeling just returned when phil walked out a good forty minutes later, mumbling a soft "i liked the flowers. you should keep painting them." to dan before leaving.

perhaps he could finish the flowers.

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this has been sitting in my drafts since july, and i just got a sudden inspiration to finish this little "teaser-y" thing. woo? bring out the party poppers.