Prompt: “Saw your face and got inspired” — Like I Would
You were walking down the street, in search of the awesome farmer’s market that your town has every Wednesday afternoon. You wore your white Vans slip ons with ripped skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, embracing the crisp fall air that blew your long curls around your shoulders and back. While you were mid-step, something told you to look up.
From across the pedestrian-filled street, you made eye contact with a street artist. His rugged beard and thick dark eyebrows brought a sense of mystery about him that intrigued you. He used the nail of his thumb to scratch above a scar in his eyebrow, allowing you to notice the line of bare skin clashing against the dark hair. He glanced up from his easel and locked eyes with you. The world froze. You blinked and instantly was sucked back into the market. One of the farmers was trying to talk you into buying some of his tomatoes. His voice brought you back into reality. After shoving some money into his hand, you reluctantly put some of the tomatoes in your bag, but you weren’t really paying attention. As your eyes were searching around for the street artist, you accidentally dropped one of the tomatoes, leaving it to splatter all over the ground and the tips of your shoes.
Once you were bummed about not finding the hot street artist again, you decided that you purchased enough produce, so you began walking back in the direction of your apartment. You walked through a parking lot and saw the street artist putting his art supplies in a van.
“Hey,” you said, walking up to him. “I saw you earlier and wanted to see what kind of stuff you were painting.”
He smiled at you, then shoved the easel into the back of the van. “Oh, hey. I remember you.”
“Yeah.” He blushed a little, then pulled another easel off the top of the others. “I, uh, was inspired to paint this because of you.”
You instantly blushed. On the canvas, you saw a portrait of a young woman who looked just like you, but with little pieces of tomato on her face in in her hair, like she had just gotten into a food fight. She was biting her lip and had the tip of her pointer finger in her mouth. “You painted this because of me?”
“Yeah,” he blushed and ran his fingers through his blonde-died hair. “I saw what happened when you bought those tomatoes and I guess I saw your face and got inspired.” He lit a cigarette and then put it between his two fingers, allowing the smoke to cloud the air between you. “I’m Zayn, by the way.”
“Y/n,” you introduced yourself and shook hands with Zayn. You tucked a stray curl out of your face and smiled. “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee or something?”
“Yeah. That’d be great.” He put the canvas back in the van, “I think there’s a Starbucks around here.”
So, together you walked to the coffee shop, then talked for hours without realizing it. You only checked the time when your roommate texted you, asking where you were because the farmer’s market had ended three hours ago. You put a hand to your face. “Oh, my gosh. I didn’t realize it was this late.” You threw the strap of your purse on your shoulder, then stood up from the table. “I’m sorry, but I have to get going. I have an early class to teach tomorrow.”
“At least let me give you a ride home.” He offered, standing up and grabbing your bag of produce.
“Oh, I couldn’t accept that. My apartment is just a few blocks away.”
“I insist.” He put a hand on your shoulder, “It’s pitch black out here. What kind of guy would I be to let a lady walk home in the dark? Come on.”
He drove you home, continuing the conversation from the coffee shop, only being interrupted by you giving him directions to your apartment. Once you arrived, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for a lovely evening. You had given him your cell phone number at the cafe and told him to text you. He said he would and then was on his way. You honestly thought that would be the last time you ever heard from him.
When you woke up the next morning to get ready for your lecture, your roommate knocked on your door as you fluffed your hair. She had her toothbrush in her mouth and mumbled that you had a package waiting for you at the door. After asking why she hadn’t brought it in for you, she shrugged and went back into the bathroom. So, you walked to the door, unlocked it and opened it. Staring back at you was the portrait that Zayn had painted of you with the tomatoes in your face. In the top corner, you saw a bright pink sticky note with some scribbles on it. Peeling it off, you brought it closer for inspection. “Inspire me some more, tomato girl xxx Zayn” All you could do was snicker.
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