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𝘙𝘏𝘠𝘚 𝘔𝘖𝘖𝘙𝘌

FRECKLES. SHE HAD FRECKLES. Everywhere. They lingered on her nose and down her neck. She smelled like honey and lavender-stronger than that night at the event-and she was soft. So incredibly soft.

For the past few days, I haven't been able to see her normally. All that flashes through my mind is skin. Her skin. On mine. Between the dreams, the day dreams and the mental pictures, i'm driving myself mad.

Her breathing, her inhales vibrating on my arms and chest had almost made me fall to my knees. I barely held myself together. But I really fucked myself over, I had the opportunity to see her-all of her-and instead I focused on her shoulders.

I clear my throat and step up to the register at my usual coffee place. "Medium cold brew. Regular." The cashier says my total and I hand her my card.

While she enters my card, I look around the coffee shop. They put new vines up on the walls. And they restocked their pastry case with different pastry's from the last time I was here. Then my eyes land on someone in the corner of the café.

Neat hair; small headphones on top, pouty lips-a pen in between them- long leather jacket over a sweater and mini skirt, black nylons on a leg crossed over the other. A computer open and two notebooks sprawled on the small table.

Wren.

Then I register a hand tapping my shoulder. When I follow the hand to the person, the cashier raises her eyebrows and holds out my card.

"Thank you." I grab my card, slightly annoyed she bothered me.

I stand near the soda fridge and wait for my coffee. It's much harder to keep my eyes off Wren then I initially thought. But I manage to keep my eyes on my phone until my name is called.

I grab my coffee and turn around; my body betraying me as I look toward Wren. Something in my jaw ticks when I find pale mint eyes staring right back at me.

She looks away like i've stung her. The pen that was just in between her lips is now scribbling in her notebook. I skim over her work area and see an unoccupied chair. It's mine.

I sip my coffee as I walk over to my spot. When I sit down Wren's eyes immediately flick up. If looks could kill, i'd be six feet under. Her eyes are narrowed and they only get more serious when I lean back in the chair, taking a long sip of my drink.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is low, not wanting to attract the attention of other people. Yet, she doesn't even realize she already has everyone's attention just by existing.

"Drinking coffee." I place my coffee down on the small area of the table that isn't taken up by her stuff.

"Obviously." She scoffs. "I mean, what are you doing sitting right here?" She places her pen down and I follow her movement. I reach out and carefully take her notebook in my hands, and flip through the seemingly endless pages.

Drawings. Lots of them are striped across the pages. They're of statues and water fountains. Taxi's, subways, and boats. Random sketches of trash cans and cats-one in particular. Nothing in this sketchbook fits together in real life, but somehow the ugliest things look beautiful on her page.

"You drew all this?" I look up to see Wren studying her work in my lap.

"Yeah. I like to sketch." She looks up at me when I make a sound-an impressed one.

"This is more then 'sketching'." It's true. The lines and dots she places for shading look so planned and calculated, that I could look at it for hours.

I have a thing for art. Either drawings, paintings, photographs-because Stella is the best photographer-, music, a talent. Everything that I can't do somewhat amazes me.

"Thanks." She doesn't look appreciative. "I have a few more at my house. They're my best pieces-I think-they're on canvases hanging up in my apartment."

"But another one of my pieces is at my friends bakery. When she first opened up, there was a wall that didn't have any decoration. So I sat in one of her cute seats and started scribbling the dessert that was in front of me. It's hanging up on that wall now."

I think back to the 'cutesy' café I went with Stella. Right in front of our table was a large canvas, spanning the whole empty space, was a cinnamon bun that looked like it was popping off the canvas. I remember it being the one thing that stood out in the pink café.

"It was a cinnamon bun." I place her notebook back on the table.

"How'd you know?" She stares at me with wide eyes.

"I went to lunch with my sister there a few weeks ago. I remember your art. It was good." I sip my coffee as I drink in her expression.

She looks as if she's never been complimented before. Then I wonder if she actually hasn't. And a small sense of pride fills me to know I was the first one.

When she doesn't speak I shrug. "Do you do commissions?"

"Uh." She seems to snap out of her daydream. "I've done one or two."

"My sister just bought her first apartment and she loves art like yours. She's been looking for a piece that screams 'I am a sophisticated college student'. Her words, not mine." Wren nods.

"I could definitely make her something. Right now it's a little crazy with the contract but definitely after. Yeah." She closes her notebooks and laptop.

I stand up as she puts on her coat. When she grabs her book bag and looks up at me, I move out of her way and we walk to the exit. The splashing of rain hitting the pavement fills the quiet space between us, and when I open the door, I see the heavy drops falling on top of the city.

"I just ordered a cab." Wren says from next to me.

I nod and take my jacket off. I don't need a cab, because I drove here, but I wouldn't leave Wren waiting alone waiting for a ride.

We both silently scroll on our phones until a yellow car pulls up in front of us. Wren puts away her phone and looks toward me. It's almost like she's saying 'goodbye' without actually saying it.

Instead I take my jacket and walk closer to her. I open the jacket and place it above our heads. Wren is only frozen for a second before she starts walking to her ride. I follow and make sure the rain doesn't land on her.

When we approach the cab, Wren opens the door and goes to climb in, but at the last second she turns around. I hadn't expected her to turn around, so the distance between us isn't all that big. The office coffee spill incident flashes through my head. I would say the photoshoot flashes in my head but then i'd get a stiffy.

"Uh." Wren looks up at me. "We could meet at my house later to discuss more about the contract. It's almost done and you hosted at your house already."

"Sure." I say before Wren nods and climbs into the cab. She doesn't look back at me as the car drives off.

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