Yellow || hs au

| 2 |

—

My eyes dart both ways of the street before I quickly cross the road with a a group of other people, the snow falling in chunky little balls and sticking to everything. Including myself.

I push open the door of the café, the small bell chiming like usual. My eyes are immediately drawn to him sitting in the back corner like he was yesterday. Cora was right. He's here.

The girl behind the counter gives me a reassuring nod, telling me she's already whipping up my vanilla and cream latte with a touch of cinnamon that I always order.

My small table is calling my name as I slide out my usual chair, setting my bag on the table and tugging my sketch book and pencil bag out, quickly flipping to his page.

He is sat almost exactly the same, his left leg stretched out with his right sat normally and both of his elbows on the table. And today he wears black jeans, slightly cuffed at the ankle and a grey hoodie and a tan coat over the top with a pair of black high top converse. He still scribbles in his journal just like yesterday.

My pencil starts moving across the page, trying to get done before he leaves. I'm not sure how much longer he was here before I got here, but I hope it wasn't long.

"Back to drawing, I see." The barista sets my latte down causing me to glance up at her, nodding my head with a smile.

"Like always." I laugh. I glance over at the boy in the corner and this time, his eyes are already trained on me. But as fast as I can blink, he's already lowered his head and eyes back to his page. "Do you by chance, know that guy?" I ask, discretely point to him with my pencil.

"No, I see him here everyday, never orders anything though." She quietly replies, shrugging her shoulders. I sigh, the barista walking back to the counter while I continue drawing.

He's interesting to look at and from what I saw in the quick second is he's absolutely gorgeous. But I can't even recall what was so gorgeous about him, he looked away too fast for me to even really remember what I saw.

I wonder if he drinks coffee at all. Or maybe he likes hot chocolate like I do sometimes, or maybe he's into tea. I don't know anyone from NewYork who drinks tea, but it's a possibility.

Maybe he goes to the University like me, but I would've had to have seen him at least once. Or hear of him. I wonder what his name is. I could see him as maybe an Alex.

The more I stare at him, the more I wonder. What's he writing? Maybe he's drawing. Is that like a diary of some sort or something for a class? Maybe he's evaluating me as well. I doubt it.

Today, his vibe seems much more sad than yesterday. The short eye contact between us was long enough for me to see the deep lines between his eyebrows and the frown on his lips. Or maybe he's angry, or upset with someone.

I want to know him.

Turning to look down at my page, I've finally gotten a decent outline of him done. His one leg slightly stretched out from under the table while the other one stays in its place, his left elbow laid out over the table with his right hand holding the pencil.

Now all that I really need is to go back in, add all of the details, shading and shadows to accentuate that feeling of sadness that he gives off. I'd like to get some details of his face but I highly doubt that will ever happen.