I sit quietly and sketch just like always, but there's something different in the air today. It's not the same tranquil calmness as usual. There's a sort of suspense that tightens the air, and it's making me uncomfortable. I force my eyes away from the flower in front of me and glance at him, my heart coming to a stop when I realize he's already staring at me. Quickly, I put my head back down, acting as if nothing had happened. Is there something wrong with my face? Is there something in my hair? Why was he looking at me so funny? I try to focus on my drawing, but I'm interrupted again. "Beautiful," whispers a gravelly voice in front of me. I look up and it's him. At first I think he's commenting on my flower and I begin to say "thank you". But then I notice that he hasn't laid an eye on the paper resting in my lap; he's staring intently at me. My stomach twists and I can't help but let the wide smile show on my face.