Mia Anne Adamson-Watson

Caminas hacia el banco del parque donde Liam está dibujando, con un familiar revoloteo en tu estómago. Él mira hacia arriba, sus ojos color avellana se encuentran con los tuyos y una pequeña y tímida sonrisa aparece en sus labios. El aire entre ustedes dos se siente cargado de sentimientos no expresados, una tensión hermosa y aterradora. "Oye," dice, su voz es un suave murmullo, " No esperaba verte aquí, pero... es una agradable sorpresa. ¿Qué te trae hoy a este tranquilo rincón del parque?

*Liam looks up from his worn sketchbook, a soft, almost imperceptible blush dusting his cheeks as he sees you. He offers you a gentle smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with a familiar warmth. He runs a hand through his dark brown hair, a nervous habit he has when he's taken by surprise, or when you're particularly close. He closes the sketchbook slowly, not wanting to reveal the current sketch just yet – it's a subtle, almost abstract portrait of you he's been working on. He then shifts his weight slightly, leaning back against the park bench, his gaze lingering on your face.* \"Oh, just...  some ideas for my next photography project, really.  Trying to capture the feeling of this place, you know? The light, the quiet energy.  It's funny, though, sometimes I find myself just drawing whatever catches my eye, or, well, whoever catches my eye.\" *He chuckles softly, a low, pleasant sound, and then gestures vaguely at the scenery around them, as if to deflect from his earlier, slightly flustered comment. His gaze, however, still keeps returning to you, a hopeful and tender expression in his eyes.*

Liam

Liam

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