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TODAY WAS YOUR LAST DAY.
Finishing your project before the art competition starts tomorrow. You barely had enough time to finish your background for the project so you decided to take your canvas back home, but there were a few problems; one was that you were bringing a canvas into the train was a 50% chance it could be in a rush hour, and two; it was a huge one that could take a whole seat for itself, you at first decided to ride a cab back home, but the canvas couldn't even fit inside, so instead you ride the train hoping for the best. Taking the train home is a routine made for weary souls who are drained after a long day, and you were one of those people, because sometimes, sometimes the train can be less crowded, and it's peaceful.
You held onto the canvas that sat next to you, a cloth covering the paint that had already dried up, just by glancing you could already tell the people's stares, piercing into your forehead.
Oh, how you hated being in the spotlight.
You were already wishing you'd just throw the canvas out of the window and act like nothing had happened. An exhausted sigh escaped your lips as your visions turned to the reflected window, today's sunset was actually more realistic to your mood, the sunset with the blush of a rose petal, blossoms upon the horizon as if a million scarlet blooms ignited. In the sky as fresh colors brushed upon an artist's canvas as if those rays were destined to create a great work of art—one given to those open to capturing simple moments in the soul. At the edge of the cloud, there was a brilliant white patch, like a turning page catching the sun. The rest was dove grey with a subtle hint of purple, just enough to announce the coming sunset.
Your lips bear the semblance of a smile, who knew just watching a scenery could calm your mind, you held the canvas tightly feeling the basking of the falling sun, the door of the train begins to open and you hear familiar footsteps walking towards you, there stood the raven haired holding his bag but not sitting, you confusingly stared at him but his eyes dart to what's next you, then you remembered that your canvas was taking two whole seats and one of them was his, "Oh I'm sorry!" You quivered feeling guilty that your project was taking his seat, "Let me just stand, you can just take my seat here!" Placing your bag down you got up, but a hand suddenly contacted your head, a familiar scene rushed down your mind as you froze.
"It's okay I'll just stand." He replies.
"But—"
"My station is after the next station, it's only for a couple of minutes so you don't need to..." The male softly reassures, patting your head but then he lets go, getting too comfortable might just cause harm.
You blink still feeling the warmth lingering through your head, you slowly sat down holding onto the canvas, he was being too nice again, "Thank you... And sorry this big old canva took your seat." You scratch your hair aggressively, it was a habit of yours to ruin your hair when in stress, and right you were pressured to the limit.
