Sketchy Business

She sighed when a few drops of her vanilla bean latte spilled on the piece of paper lay in front of her. Frantically wiping the spilled coffee with a crumpled napkin, she glared at three nasty, little light brown stains coloring the hair of the man she was sketching.

Hm... Maybe it could pass for dirty blonde?

She glanced up as discreetly as she could at the man sitting at the table that was next to her own, clad in a black turtleneck sweater. Neatly tied at the back of his head, his light blonde hair seemed to poke fun at her clumsy fingers and spilled latte, which gave the wrong color to the drawing she had so patiently worked on for the past 25 minutes.

Grumbling something about the nerve of the man's hair to look better than her own, the girl ripped the piece of paper out of her notepad and placed it down next to her cup before taking her favorite weapon between her fingers – a pencil.

Leaving the stained drawing forgotten on the smooth surface of varnished wood, she aimed all her focus on the blank page in front of her. Was it worth drawing him again?

The man in question was oblivious to her inner dilemma; or so it seemed to her. He was a broad shouldered, lean guy with long legs, obviously tall. She could see specks of stardust dancing in his eyes under long, thin eyelashes whenever he glanced up at the crowd around them. There was something classy in his posture, even feminine. He moved swiftly with ease and elegance.

Yet within his chiseled jaw and sharp facial features, there was a hint of that annoying masculine arrogance she disliked with a passion. Oh, she would never use that nasty four letter synonym that starts with 'h'. Artists don't do that. Their job is to make the beauty of this world visible to the regular eye, which has a habit of overlooking the beauty in its rawest form.

And this man was exactly that – beautiful. Maybe even so beautiful that she didn't even need to take the time to translate it for others.

She humored herself by admiring him for a little bit longer. She wasn't mistaken, there really was something alike stardust in his eyes. In their depth was a mysterious gleam whenever they were hit by a ray of sunshine that managed to sneak past washed out, crimson red curtains.

The man seemed to prefer less light. She chuckled to herself; being so pale and yet dressed in all black, he could pass for a vampire. Maybe that was why he appeared so ethereal to her eye...

She chuckled to herself again before taking a sip of her latte, this time making sure she didn't spill the delicious liquid over the blank piece of paper that eagerly waited for a gentle stroke of her favorite weapon.

Two more gulps and satisfying thud against the hard surface of the table later, she decided that her vampire-like neighbor received enough admiration for today. She picked up a pencil that had nearly rolled off and, twirling it between her fingers, she looked around, searching for inspiration.

At that moment, a small bell attached above the doorframe of the main entrance announced a new guest. Or rather, guests. She turned around to see a group of teenage girls walk through the door, their laughter filling the air that was already heavy with a strong scent of coffee grounds. They were good enough models, she thought as she gripped the pencil tighter in excitement.

''You got the nose wrong.''

The voice that snapped her from her thoughts and back into reality was smooth as silk, and at the same time so dangerously low. In fact, it sounded rather displeased, even offended.

''I- what?!'' Her heart picked up speed. She turned her head around so quickly that she nearly sprained her neck.

''My nose, it's not that pointy.''