Prompt 5 - Inspiration
@wolfstarmicrofic February 5, word count 1000
He looked at the painting he’d just spent the last week of his life painstakingly painting with nothing but contempt. He picked it up and threw it in the corner with the rest of his recent artwork. He’d lost his mojo. He simply could not create art in any form any more. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging hard on the thick curls. “Fuck it!” He breathed, grabbed his leather jacket and stormed out of his studio.
He strolled around for a while, not knowing or caring where he was walking, just knowing he needed to be outside and away from anything art-related.
He finally grew tired and flopped down onto a convenient park bench. It looked relatively new, the wood not yet weather-worn, and the brass plate still shining brightly.
‘In memory of
Hope Lupin.
A wonderful wife, mother
and duck feeder.’
Sirius laughed as he realised that the ducks on the pond had gathered at the water’s edge opposite the bench, waiting hopefully for a few breadcrumbs or some frozen peas or whatever else people fed ducks; Sirius wasn’t exactly sure. “Sorry, guys, I haven’t got anything for you,” he held up his empty hands to show them, and one duck quacked indignantly at him. He was saved from murder by ducks when a lanky man in faded denim jeans and an interesting choice in knitted jumpers came hurrying over with a plastic bread bag in his hand.
“Sorry, I’m late,” he apologised, and Sirius looked around for who he was talking to. The ducks suddenly broke into a cacophony of excited quacking and began churning the water up in their frenzy to peck the little bits of bread from the water that the man threw for them. “Basil, you leave Jason alone,” the man scolded one of the ducks who was batting another duck with his wing as he grabbed the bread from around him. “Where’s Millie?” The man asked, looking around the gathered ducks. “Mill?” One of the ducks at the back slowly swam away from the throng, and the man beamed at her. Sirius gasped, mesmerised by that smile. He dug the mini sketchpad and pencil out of his pocket, inspiration hitting him hard.
The pencil flew across the page as he desperately tried to get this man’s likeness down on paper. He was so consumed with his sketching that he hadn’t realised that the bread had run out, and the man was walking towards him.
“Do you mind?” The man asked, stopping in front of him. Sirius jumped; luckily, he didn’t mess up his sketch.
“Huh?” he asked, looking up.
“Do you mind if I sit?” The man asked, gesturing to the empty end of the bench.
“Oh, yeah, sure, go ahead,” Sirius stammered. The man was so much more beautiful up close.
“Thanks,” a smile stretched his face, making a little dimple appear in his left cheek. He sat down and watched the ducks drift around the water’s surface, dipping their heads ever now and again to snatch up a tasty morsel.
“They seemed to like you a lot,” Sirius said to him after a few moments of silence, unable to sit beside someone without at least attempting to talk to them.
“I used to come with my mum a lot. She came every day at this time for as long as I can remember.” The man smiled wistfully. “I promised her I’d look after her ducks when she was gone.” Sirius looked at the plaque again and put two and two together.
“Was she the ducker feeder?” he asked, pointing at the plaque. The man nodded.
“Yep, that’s her. This thing cost a bomb,” he said, patting the bench. “But the old bench was falling apart, and I wanted to do something nice for her.” His eyes fell on the sketch pad on Sirius’s lap. “Oh, Gods, did I ruin your drawing? I’m so sorry,” he began apologising.
“Well, actually,” Sirius held up the sketch. He’d never been shy about showing his art, even to strangers in a park, apparently.
“Holy shit!” The man gaped at the drawing. “Did you do that just now?” He took the pad out of Sirius’s hands and brought it closer to his face.
“Yeah, I did.” He swallowed. “It’s the first decent piece of art I’ve done in weeks, so thanks for breaking my slump.”
“It’s, wow, it’s amazing. I’ve never liked having my picture taken, but this… this is something else. I literally can’t stop looking at it. Is that vain?” The man laughed at himself. Sirius reached out and gently took it back. He signed the bottom and tore it from the pad.
“Here, it’s yours,” he said, holding it out. The man’s face lit up.
“Really? Are you sure? I can pay you for it.” Sirius waved the man’s concerns away.
“No, it’s yours.”
“Well, thank you, erm…”
“Sirius,”
“Remus,” Remus grinned at him. “Can I at least buy you lunch? There’s a little greasy spoon about five minutes away, their fry-up is phenomenal, if you’re interested?” Sirius was, in fact, very interested.
“Lead the way.”
They stood and walked through the park, their elbows knocking against each other every few steps until Sirius gave up and linked his arm through Remus’s. If the man had a problem with him being so forward, he didn’t say anything.
“So,” Remus asked as they dug into their food. “Have you got any other art I could see?”
“I do actually.”
“Can I see it?”
“What today?” Remus nodded, his foot pressing up against Sirius’s under the table. Sirius had never eaten faster in his life than he did in that café.
Remus stayed for a few hours at the studio, but he didn’t look at any of the art. He left with a promise to call Sirius tomorrow and a lingering kiss. As soon as Remus left, Sirius put a fresh canvas on his easel and got to work on his new masterpiece.
