The Art of Knowing [Completed]

3. • one and the same •

[to all who never cease to create. to all who come alive through their works of art, dance, writing, music, etc. there's a creative future for us all.]

              • • • •
It'd been 2 weeks since Cassandra saw that fateful blonde jogger, and despite the possibility of the mysterious blonde having all the answers Cassandra yearned for, she wasn't sure if she wanted those answers anymore. Albeit it would have been nice to speak with someone who related to her, Cassandra couldn't help but think of the countless questions that would arise with each answer. So, she did what she'd done best for most of her life— suppress her thoughts.

Luckily for her, any dreams of ring man seemed to stop by now. As opposed to waking up abruptly by any dream relating to the man, she was now back to seeing regular old strangers. In all honesty, she'd never been more relieved to wake up and have nothing but a mere stranger to draw.

Strangers were safe.

When it came to sketching strangers, it was a reassuring thought, if anything. Cassandra had always been content with the minimal information she'd gotten from those dreams, ultimately allowing her to make up her own hypothesis on the stranger's life, hopes, and desires. With ring man however, the dream seemed to leave a bitter feeling in her heart. The dream had clearly indicated how involved she would supposedly be with this stranger. She never liked stepping into people's business, when ironically, the dreams seemed to do just that. But the haunting dream of herself never left her mind. It mocked her every night and day with the expectation of when this encounter would occur. Her mind couldn't help but wonder about the man at least once a day. Much to Cassandra's dismay, her skill of suppressing her thoughts had somehow weakened when it came to this certain handsome stranger.

"Okay, you look absolutely horrified," Jason retorted. He lowered the camera in his hands with a subtle grimace. Cassandra couldn't help but let out an airy laugh, imagining the disdain on her face as her mind wandered.

"Sorry, sorry. I was just thinking," she mumbled. It wasn't long before she realized she hadn't moved her pencil at all against the page of the sketchbook laying on her knees. Jason had finally had a day off from work, which gave him a chance to call Cassandra immediately for an impromptu photo shoot. He'd been dying to use the new camera he had invested in, and wanted to use Cassandra as his subject.

The day was absolutely gorgeous. It's beauty made it easy for Jason decide to take pictures of her by the lake, sitting on grass as the sunlight beamed against her skin. He prompted her to bring that fateful sketchbook of hers. It would've been amazing to see her  doing what she loved while Jason captured the moment. Unfortunately, seeing Cassandra so distracted aided in him raising his brow, the pictures turning out grimmer than he thought.

"Your face is worlds away from the truly gorgeous environment around you."

"Wow, thanks Jason. That makes me feel a lot better," Cassandra mumbled with evident sarcasm as Jason shrugged with a chuckle.

"Be a model, Cass. Think of yourself as a work of art," he cooed. The grass was pressed on as he switched his position. The clicks from the camera lens continued to linger throughout the beautiful park.

"I am nowhere near a work of art Jason," she countered with a slight shake of her head. Despite her remark, the camera's clicks continued as Jason laid on the grass, changing angles as Cassandra sat motionless.