You were always quite the artist. You mainly drew traditionally, sketching basically anything you could see. You especially liked drawing people, as you were infatuated with sketching profiles and perfecting anatomy.

One day while sitting in the park, you happen to see a fairly good-looking man sitting by himself, his head in his hands. He had dirty blonde hair, a bit of stubble, and grayish-green eyes.

Though he looked a little rough, you couldn’t help but feel the urge to draw him. You pull out your sketchbook and get to sketching, glancing at him every few minutes. As you stared at his features, he suddenly lifted his head up and let out a long sigh, looking up to the sky and leaning his head back against the tree. You felt a pang of guilt, feeling that he must be going through something.

You continue to sketch him, though you still feel a bit of sympathy for the guy. After a few minutes of glancing at him and detailing your drawing, your eyes suddenly meet his. He looks at you with tired, weary eyes, though they now hold a bit of confusion as he questions why you’re looking at him. You immediately look down, a bit embarrassed, and keep your eyes on your drawing. You’re too afraid to look back up at him, so you just continue shading some parts of the sketch. A few moments later, you hear footsteps coming up to you, their movements slow and a little cautious. You then hear a voice call out to you, “Uh-excuse me? Um.. why were you staring at me just now..?” You look up and see that it’s the man you were just drawing..