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, a fellow customer, that sat at the neighboring table 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.''

There he was, the work of art she's been admiring from the moment she entered the coffee shop. Only now she could see how tall he actually was. If she stood up she was sure that she would barely reach his shoulders.

She sat there for a moment, speechless, as the feeling of embarrassment slowly started creeping into her bones as she came back to her senses.

He, on the other hand, had a scowl on his face; he was glaring at the drawing, probably at his way too pointy nose. She frankly thought that she had done a good job, but the vampire guy seemed to disagree, judging by how furrowed his eyebrows were. She wondered for a brief moment if they would fall off if he kept frowning.

In a poor attempt to save what was left of her pride and dignity, she jerked her hand forward, wanting to take the drawing away from his prying eyes.

But her clumsiness had a habit of disagreeing with her motor skills at the worst of times – she hit the cup and nearly spilled all of its content. Luckily for her notepad, the man's reflexes were much better than her own – see? He was definitely a vampire – and he reached out in time to stop the cup from toppling to the side.

''Careful,'' he said softly, his piercing grey eyes meeting hers. Yes, there was definitely stardust in them. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

''Mind if I join you? I do have a couple of suggestions," said he, motioning with his head towards the drawing.

''Sure...'' she muttered absently, still having trouble processing what was happening around her. She moved all her things towards her side of the table to make space for the man who perched in a chair opposite her.

''Caspian,'' his deep voice halted her actions.

''What?'' came out her weak response.

''My name is Caspian. And you are?''

''Cleo,'' she muttered as she put her notepad and pencil in her bag, avoiding those piercing eyes.

''So, Cleo, do you do this often?'' he asked, leaning back in his chair. She fidgeted under his gaze as she could feel him studying her.

''Do what?''

''Spy on people to draw them.'' He pointed one long finger at the drawing between them.

She finally looked up in defiance. ''Hey, that's not spying!''

''No?''

''No!'' she shook her head.

''Then what do you call staring at people from across the room?'' he asked casually as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.

''If it's for drawing purposes, it's not creepy," she shot back in defense. "It's simply observing the art!''

''Ah. Observing the art, you say? I see,'' he said with an air of satisfaction, his icy gaze unblinking.

''Yeah!'' Noticing the expression on his face, she quickly changed her response. ''N-no!'' If it was possible his icy look turned even more intense and pink in her cheeks said way more than words that escaped her lips could. ''I don't know...''

She had to give him the credit; the man was a gentleman enough to let it go and make more distance between them when he noticed her discomfort. But that was as far as his gentlemanly behavior went. After adjusting the pink, fluffy pillow behind his back, his pale eyes found a way back to her dark ones and it felt like they held them captive.

''Mind lending me a pencil?''

Gladly taking this opportunity to avert her gaze, she rummaged through her bag until she found the pencil and gave it to him.

He leaned forward and shielded the drawing with his forearm as he did the work, and she could only assume that he was fixing the offense in the shape of a nose.

''So... Do you draw as well?''

He hummed. ''From time to time. Need a lesson?'' His head was lowered so she couldn't see it, but she could definitely hear a smile in his voice.

''Right now?''

''If you want.''

''It's too early for this.''

''Because we just met?''

''No, because it's nine on a Sunday morning.''

Something that resembled a chuckle escaped his mouth. He rose to his feet and pushed the drawing towards her.

''Here, keep this to make needed corrections.''

Looking down, she saw that he, in fact, didn't make any corrections on the stained drawing of him she previously made - a very accurate drawing of him, might she add! In the moment, all the embarrassment she felt was thrown out of the window and was replaced with anger.

''You, mister, are blind!" she grit out as she took the paper from his rough hand. How dare he insult her drawing skills?! It's not like he was an expert at drawing, was he? But then, her eye prone to noticing little details caught something rather sketchy.

At the bottom of the page were scribbled digits in an order that suspiciously looked like a phone number.

The nerve of the guy!

She looked up, ready to unleash the stream of words that was already threatening to spill from her mouth, when she saw him closing the coffee shop's door behind himself.

''For the record, your nose is pointy!'' She yelled after him, ignoring the curious looks that customers of a little coffee shop, Cupid's arrow, gave her.

by TDAmaranthine