Love, Anonymous

Chapter Seventeen

Cover art by r5thebestbandr5

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Chapter Seventeen

"Morning, Duncan." I smile as I walk into the art room.

A sense of familiarity always washes over me when I get in here. It has a certain smell, like dried paint mixed with fresh coffee and the old air freshener he has yet to replace- an odd mixture but a calming one nonetheless.

He glances at me from above his coffee cup and his eyes smile at me. "Hey Reagan, what are you going to draw this morning?"

I sit down and place my things next to me, reaching under the desk yet again for my sketchbook.

"I'm not sure. We'll see where my mind takes me, I guess." I shrug.

He nods and places his cup down on the edge of his desk, trading it for a pencil to mark in his notebook. "I'm sure it's going to be great. I've got to step out for a meeting before class starts, so you know you're welcome to stay in here while I'm out." He says, and I nod with a grateful smile.

I start sketching, and seconds into it I get lost in my drawing. If Duncan came back into the room, I didn't hear him. If anything happened at all, I'm completely oblivious to it. My entire mind and body are focused in the movement of my pencil along the paper.

Time flies as I sketch in my journal. I don't know how long I have been working when I feel warm breath cascades across the back of my neck that sends chills down my spine, and hear a deep voice very close to my ear.

"What are you drawing?"

The surprise of having that voice so close to my ear and come from absolutely nowhere causes me to jump out of my chair while gasping in a pound of air. I place my hand over my heart when I meet the cool blue eyes that could only belong to Hayden.

"You scared the shit out of me." I breathe.

"I couldn't tell." He hums, raising an amused brow. He slides into the seat next to me, taking the drawing and sliding it in front of him.

He scrunches his brow as he examines it, and I suddenly realize that I still don't know what I drew. I got so lost in my head that my hand created a mind of its own. I can't tell what the drawing is because Hayden's broad shoulders are blocking my view, but soon he answers my silent question.

"Is this...me?" He asks, his voice laced with surprise.

I instantly pull my journal to where I can see it and my face heats as I realize that he's exactly what I drew. I drew him walking Bruce a few days ago, when he was shirtless.

Why am I like this?

I decide not to answer him, because if I do I will just bury myself deeper into this hole.

I cannot believe I just drew this man shirtless. It's as if I want him to make fun of me.

"How come you're here so early again?" I ask, clearing my throat. Better to avoid the situation I've been thrown into.

Hayden seems to disregard the drawing as well, and he lounges back in his chair. "I needed Duncan, but I guess he's not here." He says, then he glances at me. "I could ask you the same thing."

I shrug and close my sketchbook in the hopes of him forgetting what I drew. "I'm here every morning."

I don't give much of an answer, because there really is no answer to give. I just...do. I've been coming in here all year long and it just became my routine.