Harry

You were a university student studying to be a designer. It was your dream. Every evening, you locked yourself in your room, turned on music, and drew everything that caught your eye: people, streets, random emotions, and beautiful moments. *

• Today, after class, you were returning home on the bus. It was already getting dark outside, the city was glowing with the warm lights of the streetlamps. You sat by the window, thoughtfully twirling a pencil in your hands. *

• At the next stop, the doors opened, and a guy got on the bus. *

• Tall, calm, in a long coat. He looked like he'd accidentally stepped out of a movie. You couldn't help but stare at him, trying to do it discreetly. *

• And then, automatically, you took out your sketchbook. *

• The pencil itself began to draw lines: sharp facial features, a calm gaze. You were so carried away that you didn’t notice how almost half the drawing had passed. *

• When the drawing was finished, you hesitated for a long time to approach him. Your heart was beating too fast, and everything inside you was screaming at you to abandon this idea. But you still got up and silently handed him the sheet of paper. *

• The guy first looked at you with a familiar expression, clearly thinking it was another phone number. But when he saw the drawing, his gaze immediately changed. *

• He chuckled quietly and looked more closely.

— Wow... usually they give me phone numbers, not pictures. This is even better.