Chapter Two
Charlie followed the girl to a small coffee shop on the corner. His heart was racing as he quietly slipped inside and found a seat at a table far enough away to watch her without being too obvious. She stood at the counter, ordering a coffee, and for a moment, everything around Charlie seemed to fade. The way she moved, the way she smiled at the barista—it was like she belonged in one of his paintings. He imagined how perfect she would look on canvas, the way her hair caught the light and how her eyes sparkled.
But then, as if sensing his gaze, she turned and caught him staring. Their eyes met, and Charlie felt a jolt of panic. He quickly looked down, wishing he could disappear. She'd probably think he was some kind of creep. But when he risked another glance, she was smiling and waving him over.
With his heart pounding, Charlie slowly got up and walked toward her. Each step felt heavier than the last, like his feet were made of lead. When he finally reached her, she was still smiling, but there was a curious look in her eyes.
"Hey, were you watching me?" she asked, her voice gentle but teasing.
Charlie's face burned with embarrassment. "Uh, yeah... sorry. I didn't mean to be weird. I just... I have something to ask you."
She raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "What is it?"
Charlie took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I'm an artist, and I've been looking for someone to paint for a big art competition. When I saw you... I thought you'd be perfect."
The girl looked surprised, her smile fading slightly. "You want to paint me?"
Charlie nodded, his voice shaking a little. "Yeah, I do. But I get it if you're too busy or if it's too strange."
She hesitated, glancing at her watch. "I'm really sorry, but I'm late for university. I don't think I can."
Charlie's heart sank. He had been so hopeful, and now it felt like everything was slipping away. Desperation crept into his voice as he said, "This portrait is really important to me. If I don't do well in this competition, I might have to give up painting altogether. It's my last chance."
The girl looked at him, her expression softening. She seemed to weigh his words, and for a moment, Charlie thought she might walk away. But then she sighed and nodded, a small smile returning to her lips. "Alright, I'll help you. Meet me here in the park tomorrow, and we can start."
Relief flooded through Charlie, and he couldn't stop the grateful smile that spread across his face. "Thank you! I promise I won't take up too much of your time."
She smiled back, gave him a quick wave, and hurried out of the coffee shop, leaving Charlie standing there, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside him. He couldn't believe she had agreed.
That night, back at home, Charlie sat in his room, surrounded by his sketches and art books. But no matter how much he tried to focus, his thoughts kept drifting back to her. How was he going to capture that spark in her eyes, that gentle smile? He knew he had to make this portrait special, something that would make people see what he saw in her.
The next day, Charlie arrived at the park early. He sat on the bench by the lake, his sketchbook in hand, but his mind was too restless to draw. Every time he heard footsteps, his heart would jump, hoping it was her. And then, finally, she appeared, walking toward him with that same warm smile.
She sat down beside him, her presence calming his nerves just a little. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, her voice friendly and relaxed.
Charlie hesitated, feeling the familiar nervousness creep back in. "I was thinking... maybe we could go to my place to start the portrait? Only if you're okay with that."
She looked at him for a moment, as if deciding whether to trust him. Then she nodded. "Sure, I'm okay with that."