19 18th Dawn - A Peculiar Artist

"A model...?"

I blink at this blob of blue in bafflement. He's spouting the queerest things I ever heard. For unknown reasons, he just started asking me if he could draw me. I react incredulously, of course. People see me like an eyesore since I like to stick out like a sore thumb, so it's ludicrous to even imagine that someone will want to look at me for a considerable amount of time.

"Are you making fun of me?" I questioned, straight-faced.

"How's that making fun of you?" he retorted, puzzled.

"Don't you at least find me intolerable? I mean, I'm wearing flat shoes and I have this funny hat. Oh, and by the way, that's a rude thing to do without introducing yourself first. Have you no manners?"

At my outburst, he just erupts into a fit of laughter all of the sudden. I only stare at him in return, dumbfounded. This dude is one unpredictable fellow, it seems.

"You're right... I'm sorry..." he trailed off, still chuckling, to which I only roll my eyes in annoyance.

"My name is... Lewis. Nice to meet you."

I noticed how he contemplated at that for a bit, as if he just forgot his name and was thinking about it. He's now starting to look shady for some reason. While I'm processing these thoughts in hope to figure out what he's hiding up in his sleeves, Lewis suddenly takes out a sketchpad for his shoulder bag, which eventually snapped me out of my suspicion. Intrigued, I pace towards him and tries to take a peek, but then, he suddenly moves it away before I even get a chance to.

"You can't look unless you let me draw you."

I just furrow my eyebrows and narrow my eyes at him in miff. With a huff, I then lean back on the handrail and wave my hand at him dismissively, giving him my permission. I have nothing to lose here, anyway. I can also get to see his drawings if I let him.

"Do what you want. Just don't draw a mustache on my face or make fun of me in any way. Or else, I'll punch you."

"You're one scary woman, Lillian."

"Shut up."

For the next minutes to come, I just remain silent since Lewis is too lazy to move his mouth. He's just so focused on his drawing that his eyebrows are now scrunched tightly together. Just by looking at him as he is now, I already figured out that this is undoubtedly his passion. That's when I suddenly recall the woman's words to me yesterday. I remember how she told me she could see it in my eyes. That I'm not passionate enough, that is. Perhaps, this is what she meant by that.

Shooing away this disheartening flashback, I then turn back to Lewis and anchor myself to reality. I let him take his time and try to busy myself with my random musings. I would occassionally glance at the horizon and then to his direction, suddenly feeling eager to see how his sketch of me will turn out. It's my first time getting drawn by someone, after all.

A few minutes passed and Lewis finally finished drawing. I stride over to him, face bubbly with excitement. Since I'm so used to seeing how average my sketches look, I didn't really expect anything extravagant. Contrary to this, however, as soon as I lay eyes on the paper, I find myself gaping, eyes bulging in astonishment.

Lewis drew me so perfectly.

The picture depicts reality as closely as possible and idealizes it with its depthness and style of movements. I can almost feel the mellow streaks of sunset that shroud my body in this illustration. The way the strands of my hair get blown by the wind, my skirt fluttering, that distant expression filled with yearning - they're all meticulously portrayed.

"Hey, Lewis?"

"Yeah?"

"May I see you again tomorrow? I want to show you something."

Lewis then gives me a flummoxed look in return. Thinking that it's too abrupt, I almost want to take it back, but it's instantly halted by my true motive. I want to show him my sketches, and if possible, ask for his opinions about them. Since he wasn't harsh when he pointed out my shoes and cap, I know I'll be comfortable when I show them to him. It's not like I'm unwilling to be corrected, but I think that the fact he doesn't judge me with ill intent somewhat boosts my confidence.

"You see, I'm supposed to be an apprentice for a month now, but it just happened that I'm sitll stuck... I don't have a passion. I don't know what I want to be or want to do. At first, I thought that everything would be fine with me as long as I can fill my tummy and have a bed to sleep on. But then I learned that doing so would be meaningless..." I confessed, a bit ashamed.

I know that I sound desparate right now, but I have no choice. If I continue going with the flow at this point, I might just find myself still serving tables even after I had my coming-of-age.

"You know, Lillian, you don't have to compare yourself with others like that," he voiced out all of the sudden, much to my surprise.

"You're feeling pressured because everybody else was already moving forward while you're still stagnant, aren't you?"

I then peer at him, utterly bemused, but he only keeps smiling at me knowingly. For a moment, I remain in daze as we continue in our mini staring contest. Then, with a deflated profile, I turn away and slowly nod at him before stooping my head low. He somehow saw me through like that, but I couldn't really find it in myself to deny or complain.

"If you'll let me draw you again, I'll come," he finally blurted out after a short pause.

For a second, I just blink my eyes at him in surprise before eventually beaming at him with a grateful grin, which he returns with an amicable one of his own. Though I'm flummoxed that he still wants to draw more of me, I just sincerely express my gratitude and promise to pay him back next time.

"Oh, if it's okay, can you still wear those again?" Lewis added out of nowhere, making me tilt my head at him quizzically.

"No problem...? I guess it's alright. I have tons of them, anyway," I replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Wait, what? You're seriously wearing men's shoes?"

"Ugh... They're not men's shoes. They're just flats! What about you, then? You have a thing for clothes or something?"

"Well that's... You'll find out soon."

With that, I only narrow my eyes at him in suspicion.

Lewis is really one shady dude.

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