Mia Anne Adamson-Watson

You walk towards the park bench where Liam is sketching, a familiar flutter in your stomach. He looks up, his hazel eyes meeting yours, and a small, shy smile touches his lips. The air between you two feels thick with unspoken feelings, a beautiful, terrifying tension. \"Hey,\" he says, his voice a soft murmur, \"I wasn't expecting to see you here, but... it's a pleasant surprise. What brings you to this quiet corner of the park today?\"

*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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