From her desk in the nearly empty classroom, Y/N has a perfect view of the large windows. The rain is pouring outside and the sound of it, combined with the calming vision of the water running lazily down the glass, make her eyelids feel heavy.
Slowly, the place begins to get filled with people and sounds. Y/N moves her focus to the door, trying to pay attention to every single person who enters the room, making notes about their hair, expressions, clothes, all in an attempt to stay awake.
From behind a red haired girl, who's almost completely covered by a huge black coat, Y/N sees him. Maybe the whole change of focus was meant for her to stay awake, but deep down she truly wanted to see him.
She likes watching as he gets in, always talking and smiling with his friends. She loves that smile. She takes her bag from the ground and rummage until she feels the leather cover of her black notebook. On the fourth page, she finds the unfinished drawing and patiently waits for him to sit down.
It'd started with his hair. When she first saw Daniel entering the room for their Literature class, that was the first thing to catch her attention. It was his whole style on the first day, but the very first thing was the wild black hair cascading down his shoulders.
He was tall, strong, judging by his defined biceps, and handsome. There was a lot of guys at uni that would match this first description, but none of them had a hair like that. Down his neck was a simple black shirt and, down his waist, a pair of old jeans, basic if it wasn't for the necklaces hanging above the black fabric, the bracelets around his wrists and the rings on his fingers. As he started to climb his way to an empty desk, she saw the pair of birkenstocks on his feet. That made her smile.
She had her notebook open in front of her, the blank page begging to be inked. Without much thinking, she quickly drew a generic shape of a head and put her heart and soul into making his hair perfect, with all of its curls and wildness.
Then, it was his smile. He had the sweetest smile she had ever seen in her life, which, in her opinion, was a beautiful contrast to his body. She would never expect a guy as hot as him to have a sweet smile like that, it seemed wrong, but also very right.
His lips led her to the eyes, which seemed to smile as well. They were also warm, safe eyes. His long lashes and thick eyebrows worked together in perfect harmony and were great for drawing.
She's working on the nose now and the vision she has of it from her desk is amazing. She loves that nose, the way it makes his face so unique. Her favorite thing about it is the few freckles at the bridge, which just adds up to his cuteness.
She takes her time drawing him, not only because she wants everything to be perfect, but she also has to be discreet. Drawing him is like a game, she has to look at him all the time, absorb everything without getting caught. She keeps hiding her looks and the notebook, so no one will see the masterpiece she's creating. She doesn't want anyone thinking she's a creepy, especially him.
By the time the nose is finished, she takes one more look at her muse. The professor in front of the class has his full attention, he bites his lip and brings his eyebrows together before looking down and taking some notes. She smiles to herself, passing out moments after.
A hand on her shoulder takes her out of her dream. Startle, she looks up to find Daniel by her side, tall as a tower, intimidating if it wasn't for the small smile his lips were forming.
"Class is over," he says in a sweet tone. She can still feel the warmth of his hand, even though he's not touching her anymore.
"Thank you," she replies, looking around to see almost everyone else is gone. Forgetting about the notebook still open on the desk, she moves her body away to take her bag, providing Danny a glorious view of her art.
"This is really good," he states. She looks at him, an eyebrow raised.
"What is?" He points to the desk. "Fuck," she mutters, closing the notebook. Her eyes fly to him, wide open. "I'm sorry."
"About what?" He asks, letting out a small laugh.
"I don't know, I didn't ask if I could. I'm not a creepy or anything, it's just -," she pauses, taking a deep breath, thinking about what to say. He's already seen it, she couldn't make it worse even if she tried. "It's just that you have a fine face. I mean, you're beautiful and your features are great for drawing."
He smiles and looks down, his rosy cheeks making him even cuter. She can't help but smile as well. "Thanks," he whispers, looking back at her. "We should probably go."
"Yeah, sure." She gathers her things and throws them carelessly into the bag, standing up and following Danny. She knew he was tall, but standing up next to him for the first time, she feels like a midget.
"I'm Danny, by the way," he tells her once they leave the classroom. "And you're Y/N, right?" She nods. He stops in front of her, she looks up to see his eyes which are bored into her. "How long to your next class?" He asks.
"I'm actually done for the day."
"I have two hours," he says. "Do you wanna grab a coffee or something?"
"That would be nice," she replies shyly, tasting the pink on her face.
She follows Danny in silence, almost running to keep up with his pace. They leave the building and walk two blocks until they get to a nice and cozy cafe. Danny picks a table next to the glass wall, where they can see the sun slowly appearing from behind the clouds now that the rain has stopped.
She insists on paying, but end up letting the boy do as he wants, watching from her sit as he graciously walk to the counter to make the orders. She loves the way he seems to smile while talking, like he's always happy to communicate.
"What?" He asks, sitting across from her and placing the orders on the table. That's when she realizes her eyes are glued to him and a smile is plastered on her face. She shakes her head, moving her face to the cup of coffee in her hands.
"Are you an art major?" She tries to hide her face behind the cheesecake, embarrassed to know he's asking because of her drawing.
"Journalism," she states. "I just draw for fun, actually."
"Well, you're a great artist," he says with a smile, his eyes trying to catch hers as she keeps looking down at the table. "I'm glad to be your muse."
"Look, I'm really sorry about that." Her eyes finally meet his, a shiver runs down her spine. "We've never even talked and I just drew you, it sounds creepy and wrong."
"You don't have to apologize, seriously." His right hand finds her left one and he quickly squeezes it. She almost cry when he takes it back to his side. "You draw what inspires you and if that's me, I'm glad."
"What's your major?" She breaks the silence that fell upon them, the moment of contemplation during which their eyes locked to one another and she felt like dying.
"English, but I'm only doing it because my parents want me to get a degree. My real passion is music."
"Why don't you major in music, then?" She asks, her eyes sparkling as she learns about his artistic side.
"I don't know. I guess it would turn it into a mechanical thing, it would become an obligation and I would have to study things I don't like. I was afraid it would ruin music for me, I guess."
"Makes sense," she says, sipping her coffee. "So what do you play?"
"I'm in a band and I play the drums, but I also can play the guitar and a bit of piano." She notices the way his eyes lit up when he started talking about it, her heart speeding up its pace at the sight.
"That's really cool."
"If I wrote a song about you," he begins, "would I have to apologize?"
Her eyes travel up her coffee to his face, mouth ajar only a little, opening a bit more as her laughter gets louder. He laughs along, incapable of not doing so.
"I don't think so," she finally says, trying to breathe normally again.
"There you go."
The tip of his tongue appears from between his lips, wetting them a little, coming back in to be replaced by his teeth, which bite the bottom lip. It's a simple action with no intention of being sexy or anything, she knows it because she had caught him doing that many times during class. But the way he's looking at her when he does it makes it almost erotic, it makes her breath get uneven.
"My band is playing tonight on a pub downtown. You should come." He takes his bag and open the front pocket, taking a flyer out of there and handing it to the girl.
"Greta Van Fleet," she reads it to herself, making her eyes look back at him.
"I have to go now," he says. "But I really hope to see you tonight, please." The last word is a breathy whisper. She finds herself unable to deny his request.
-
She doesn't know what to wait from the band, but considering how packed the pub is, they must be good and popular. There are a lot of familiar faces, more than half of them she has already seen around college at least once.
She can't help but feel lost among all of their sweaty bodies, though. Her roommate said "no" to coming with her, so she ended up by herself, embracing her solitude in order to not disappoint Danny.
She's at the bar when a voice coming from behind her back announces the band. She turns around fast enough to catch them getting in. They're dressed like 70s rock stars and she can't help but smile at that. She gets up from her stool and walks to the stage, getting closer as they claim their place up there.
The first one to get to his spot is the guitarist; he has a long hair, lighter and not as wild as Danny's. Then comes the frontman. His confidence fills the room and she can't help but smile, as if his energy is drawing her lips up like a magnet. The bassist follows close behind, his hair very similar to the guitarist, but he's way taller than the other two on stage.
Then comes Danny, towering them all. By the time he finds his way behind the drum kit, she is close enough for his eyes to catch her and a smirk to form on his lips. He's wearing leather pants and a vest with nothing but his necklaces underneath. Thrill runs through her body.
The set is flawless. They're all fantastic, talented musicians, but for some reason, Y/N's eyes keeps finding themselves back at the drummer the whole time. He becomes someone else when he's playing, all he's cuteness is replaced with wildness and eroticism. She can't help but have dirty thoughts watching the sweat running down his skin, the way his concentrated face seems to be full of anger as he hits the drum, his lips moving like he's talking to the instrument, screaming.
He walks straight to her after the set is over. Her body is shaking, her breath heavy, her blood boiling. The sweet smile is adorning his lips, contrasting to everything else that's making her flustered.
"I'm so glad you came," he says, resting his hands on her shoulders. "What did you think?"
"It was amazing," she breathes, eyes wandering about his body, stopping at his exposed chest. She takes her hand to one of his necklaces, fidgeting with the peace sign pendant.
"Did you like that?" He asks under his breath. She looks up, eyes peeking through her lashes to find his teeth pressed to his bottom lip.
His hand find the back of her neck, he tugs her hair and leans down, feeling her uneven breath hit his face. He rubs the side of his nose against hers, the action making her eyes shut close, anticipating his next move.
His lips finally touch hers, kissing them feverishly. His free hand finds her waist, tightening the grip when her nails scratch his scalp.
"I've always wondered what your lips felt like, I've always admired their form, the way they move when you talk," she lets out once he draws away from her, keeping their foreheads together.
"And did you like it?" He asks with a smirk.
"A lot."
"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks, his strong hand pressing her butt.
"Please," she breathes, tugging at his collar.