Never Seen Anything Quite Like You Too (A The Script Fan-fiction)

2) Studio

Siena's POV:

I braved the cold once more and, although it wasn't as bad as two hours prior, the wind was like a snarling dog biting away at any piece of bare skin available and leaving me red raw. So all in all ... Freezing cold.

I entered the hall and immediately turned the heating up to twenty two. There that should make me feel slightly warmer on the inside.

I made my way over through my maze of equipment and into the kitchen area where I switched on the kettle. Why i decided to boil enough for six cups i do not know. I am not going to be able to drink that many cups of coffee.

The heating was doing its job thoroughly and i decided to take my coat off and place it in the hook by the door. I looked around my studio. It was fairly small I must confess but i like the confinement. My creative juices flow in here and if one creative idea slips from my head then the room is so small that it will just bounce off of the walls, richotche off the ceiling and back into my mind.

A click of the kettle tells me that my heaven in a cup was ready to be made. I brought my plain white mug over to the kettle from the kitchen drainer and placed a heaped spoonful of Nescafe coffee in it and two heaped sugars. I find that having a plain white mug is better than having a mug with a picture, logo or saying on it; i find that those sort of mugs distract me from my work. Plus a white mug with a few coffee trails going down the edges has proven to be a very nice piece of inspiration.

I poured some water and some milk into the cup and stirred well. I then cradled my warm coffee and sat down in the seat in front of the window.

Outside i saw drivers attempting to get the ice off of their windows with mini scrapers. I saw children grabing the ice that some of the drivers had scraped off and chucking it at one another. I saw one particular lady slip on the ice wearing high heels. This is not the day to be wearing high heels that's for sure.

I pondered as I sat down sipping my coffee. What should i use as inspiration today. The bitter cold? Or the wanting to be warm. Or maybe both. If my skills would reach to that extent. In the end i decided to risk it and try both.

I stole one last glance out of the window before sitting down in front of an untouched canvas. I picked up my pallet and reached for the brown.