Theo was not obsessed. Eyes flicking to the door every two minutes, instantly looking up to check who'd come into the shop, always hoping it was a specific curly-haired brunette--He was not obsessed. But soon after he'd met the lad,--Jude, was his name--he was hit with muse for his art. And now it'd been a few days, and he was frightened half to death because the lad hadn't responded to his text, and he was desperate to get his muse back. His friends had told him to just let it go, and of course, he was reluctant. But he did busy himself with trying to doodle, and that's what he was doing when he heard the bell overhead the store's entrance ring. Deciding this would be the last time he'd get his hopes up, hazel eyes glanced up--And who could it be but Jude. A smile flooded his face, and he waved him over. "Y'know, I think you stole my muse."
