Yellow || hs au

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The wind whistles harshly outside, the small café keeping me warm and cozy as light flurries of snow fall from the sky that is filled with skyscrapers and a gloomy sky.

The street lights are already flickered on and cars fly past each other on the streets with bright headlights that occasionally flood the dimly lit café that is deserted other than me and one other person in the back corner.

I stare down at my sketchbook, completely unhappy with white canvas waiting for me to draw on it. Not a single mark is on the paper and still it is incredibly intimidating. Even with art being my passion and basically my whole survival kit through life, I still have such a hard time getting the perfect idea.

The semester only just started and our first assignment is to draw something or someone that represents a feeling or an emotion. I've gone through many ideas of what to draw and nothing has clicked for me.

I bite the end of my pencil as I glance around the café. I thought about maybe drawing the café for a warm feeling or contentment. But when my eyes land on the boy sat in the corner with curly hair and the pencil in his hand scribbling profusely on the paper before him, I realize that he would work perfectly.

I discreetly turn in my chair to get a better angle of him. The way his shoulders and back are slouched and his messy curls falling forward into his eyes. Looking at him, my heart and chest feel heavy.

He wears simple light wash denim jeans with a dark brown Nike crewneck with black vans that are worn down to the soles. His jeans rise higher, exposing a bit of his ankles that are hidden with white socks.

Slowly I begin to sketch out the outline of the table he is sat at, the lines messy and light but I don't want to make it obvious that he's my subject. I move my head two and fro from the strangers figure and my paper that is slowly beginning to fill with lines and eventually a piece of art.

My pencil smoothly glides around the paper as I continue to watch him. My eyes flicker back and forth, occasionally getting stuck on him. From here, he's attractive. Long legs, great hair and style. But I haven't seen anything else of him.

After a few more bits of shading, I look up to continue but I realize he's packing his things up. He closes the cover of his brown journal and clasps the string over it before sliding out of his chair.

I try not make it obvious that I'm staring at him as he passes me at a quick pace. His hand grips the journal at his side, covering almost half of it making it known his hands are very large. His finger nails were painted black and chipped from what I could see and his slender fingers were accompanied by thick rings.

I let out a short huff as I turn back to look at my unfinished drawing. One of his legs is partially shaded in while the table is half drawn, there's still eraser shaving on the page causing me to screw my eyes shut, closing the cover completely.

This piece isn't due for another week so I guess I'll just have to imagine the rest on my own. Hopefully my professor won't think anything of it, I mean how hard can it be to draw the rest of him?

I push my sketchbook and small pencil case into my bag before I zip it up and pull it over my shoulder, standing from my small table.

I glance outside, only this time it's snowing heavily and is much darker. Usually I try not to be too far from my apartment when it gets dark so I don't have to walk through the city by myself, however this time I was distracted.