It was almost as though a blanket of grey had settled itself over the town, and by the time Rowan reached the park she was almost wishing that they had decided to meet up inside. It was clear that there was something moving in.
Regardless, they would have to make the best of it and move out if the weather turned. She settled herself into one of the worn benches that had clearly seen better days and ran her hands over the top of her jeans to stay warm.
And he was right on time, appearing next to her on the faded wood. And he was beautiful, though somehow even more so now that they were out from under the fluorescence of the cafe and stationed in the real world.
They were silent for several beats, seeming to come to an understanding. Of what, she wasn't quite sure.
And she found it absolutely fascinating that it was hard to be afraid around him. Something had to have changed, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out when it had happened; during which moment between meeting his eyes for the first time and hearing him speak had something fallen into place? At what point had she grown brave enough to ask him to do something like this?
"You're a deep thinker."
The deep rumble of his voice brought her back, and she found herself flushing in embarrassment. With a sheepish grin she dug her sketchbook out of her messenger bag. "I am. Sorry."
"No need to apologize. I do the same thing." he said, smiling gently.
And she knew then that she wanted to capture that smile, because it changed his face immensely. It recreated something that could be interpreted as distant and closed off and made it open and alive. And it was aimed at her. When was the last time someone had looked at her that way?
She let her mind wander as she brought her pencil to the paper, and she her eyes swept over his features. He was silent. The very air was silent; the birds had stopped their incessant chatter and there was a certain charge to the humidity. It was the calm before the storm.
They sat that way for what could have been hours...what may very well have been hours, the only sound the faint brushing of charcoal against textured paper. And stroke by stroke he began to come to life before her very eyes.
He didn't move, and she felt the weight of his gaze upon her steady each time she glanced down at the drawing. When she looked up his eyes seemed to soften a degree.
When the drawing was finished she flipped it around to show him, holding her breath. He seemed to study it long and hard, his eyes taking in every detail. And then she was rewarded with a smile.
She felt her breath rush out in relief just as the first of the rain began to splatter against the old bench. They were up in an instant, moving towards the safety of the pavilion.
He was hesitant when he turned to her. "Do you-" he cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly on his feet. It was strange to watch someone who seemed so rough act nervous. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Was he really asking her if she was seeing someone? She almost asked him to repeat himself.
"No," she said hesitantly, clinging tightly onto the railing and her emotions.
And with that a bit of the confidence she'd been expecting seemed to reappear. "Would you go out with me? I would love to take you to dinner, or lunch, if you would prefer." He ran a hand through his damp hair and fixed those grey eyes on her, and she suddenly found it hard to concentrate on his words.
But not quite hard enough to miss the question completely. "Me?"
He gave her a sheepish look and she realized how incredulous she must have appeared. "Yes."
A smile forced its way onto her face, and suddenly she was beaming at him. "I would love that."
And just like that, all her thoughts about never getting involved with someone again were gone, and she was free falling down a very dark and dangerous cavern.