Pete walks into the cafe, with a little bell ringing above the door. There's only two people in front of him when he gets in line. He let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes for a second. The barista eventually calls 'next' for him.

"Good morning. What can I get for you?" Pete nodded in greeting with a polite smile.

"Could I have a medium macchiato with an apple Danish please." The man nodded and gave Pete the total. After paying, the barista set to making the drink.

Pete took the time to scan the small cafe. It was simple and cute. A couple booths lined the windows on either side of the entrance. Tables seemed to be randomly placed around the room. The morning sunlight was bleeding into the room, letting off a comfortable warmth. Few people had taken the time to sit down and soak in the cozy environment.

Pete took his time to notice the boy sitting in the corner booth at the window. His brown hair that wasn't hidden in a beanie went fell his ears. His black shirt was loose, printed with the name of some band on the front. His baggy jeans fell over his black worn in converse. Thick black bracelets cuffed his pale wrists. The boy was bend over a sketch book, pencil scribbling furiously on the page. Every so often, he'd lift his head up to look out the window.

"Sir?" Pete turned to the voice behind him. The barista had a cup and a bag in his hands. Pete guessed that he must've been trying to gain his attention for some time. Pete took his goods and nodded in thanks.

He turned back to the boy, debating his next move. He took steps toward an empty booth near the window. He stopped when he heard soft humming from the booth beside him. He moved toward the occupied table and cleared his throat.

The boy's head turned slightly to the side and snapped up when he noticed Pete standing at the end of the table. He quickly tore earbuds, that Pete didn't notice before, out of his ears. Pete could hear a guitar playing from the freed earbud.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Pete nodded to the empty spot across from the boy. The boy followed the nod before nodding his own head wordlessly.

Pete placed down his coffee and Danish and slid into the sit. The boy gathered the loose papers he had scattered across the table and placed them in a near pile over the project Pete caught him working on.

He pulled out his phone when he realized his music was still blaring through the earbuds. He kept his head low and lips sealed. Pete tilted his head to the side curiously as he watched the boy nervously fidget.

"I'm Pete," he introduced. The boy peeked up, eyes locking together for only second before looking back to his pile of papers.

"Patrick," he murmered. Pete let a smile spread over his face when he saw a pink blush flood over the other's cheeks. Patrick's voice was timid and unsteady. It was like he was intimidated by Pete's presence. It was adorable.

"What are you drawing?" Patrick tightened his grip on the pencil secured in his hand.

"Uh, nothing. Just doodling." Pete leaned closer peered at the stack of papers concealing the drawing that Patrick was so focused on not long before.

"Mind if I see?" Patrick's left hand was tapping nervously against his cup. Pete could feel the vibration of the other's knee bouncing rapidly on the floor. Pete understood his nervousness. A total stranger came up to sit with him and now asked to see his drawing.

Patrick's hand left the cup and slid the loose papers of his sketch book. Pete leaned closer as Patrick turned the drawing around so he could see it better. Pete's eyes grew in surprise. The drawing was gorgeous.

It was a little intersection with brick roads and small mom and pop shops lining the side walk. There was a flower stand with an array of arrangements on display. When Pete noticed a reflection effect over the page, it dawned on him what Patrick was drawing.

He turned to the window and let his eyes dart around the street that he didn't bother to pay attention to before. There was a flower stand that shone with vibrant colors and a man sitting beside the stand. He looked back at the drawing. A rough sketch of a man perched on a stool was placed beside the lead drawn flowers.

Pete continued to look back and forth between out the window and the scene that was captured on paper. He looked up with his mouth agape. Patrick was sitting with his lips sealed. His gaze was on the pencil that danced of a loose paper.

"This is amazing." Pete couldn't believe how realistic and perfectly drawn everything was. Sure he'd seen videos of people demonstrating their ability to handle a pencil, but he never saw it first hand. Patrick shook his head as his face reddened at the compliment.

"I'm still working on fixing it," Patrick critiqued. Pete was the one to shake his head this time.

"I've never seen anyone draw like this. This is talent. How do you know how to do this?" Patrick shrugged.

"I take classes at my school. I need to work on my technique though. I'm at the bottom of my class right now." Pete frowned and looked back down at the drawing. If he hadn't know any better, he would've thought he could grab onto the items on the page.

"You're insanely talented." Patrick gave an unsure smile and looked up at Pete.

"Thanks, but I'm really not." He looked back down at the paper he was doodling on. Pete looked over at the pencil sliding across the parchment. He let out a small laugh of disbelief. The damn boy was drawing an eye. Who just draws an eye and makes it look that realistic?

Pete's doodles where that S made from six lines that everyone did or random swirls. Patrick's eye looked like it could belong on an actual body. What next, is it gonna wink at Pete?

"Can you show me more?" Patrick frowned in confusion. His eyebrows were pressed together, head slightly tilted and lips pulled down in a small frown. "Your drawings," Pete clarified. "Can I see more of them?"

Patrick mouth formed a perfect o before the bottom lip was pulled between a perfect line of white teeth. His fingers rubbed the corner of the page as he thought. His eyes fluttered closed as he let out a breath.

"Okay," he responded with a nervous smile. Pete kept his fingers curled around his coffee cup to keep his excited hands from flipping wildly through the sketches. He wanted Patrick to move at his own pace as he showed an extension of himself to a stranger.

The two sat as they turned the pages of the tattered book. Pete couldn't imagine the amount of time, the hours, maybe days spent to create these mini masterpieces. He could imagine Patrick's fingertips and the side of his hand smudged with lead.

Slowly as time ticked by, Patrick became more comfortable and even shared the side of his bench with Pete so he could examine the art better. Patrick would occasionally point out his errors that Pete was apparently blind to. He scolded the artist for belittling himself.

The art was almost as intriguing as its creator. Pete couldn't stop himself from glancing over at Patrick as the boy drove into the backstory of a piece with passion soaking his blue eyes. It was captivating to watch and oh did Pete watch the excitement seep into the young artist.

When Patrick closed the sketchbook, he gave Pete a boyish grin. He was radiating joy. It was almost an entirely different person sitting next to Pete compared to the stranger that was originally sitting at the table.

"I've never shown my drawings to anyone other than my professor," he mumbled in contentment.

"I'd like to see more, if at all possible." Patrick nodded, his eyes staring into Pete's.

"I'd like that too."