The sun is shining, the birds are singings, and there's no dead people (open) Who: Jude What: Drawing When: Saturday afternoon Where: Central Park
It was a perfect Saturday afternoon; the sun shone down from a cloudless sky and the warmth it made was only complimented by the cool breeze. It seemed almost too perfect, like it would be more at home in a television sitcom from the 1950’s. The park wasn’t busy which was odd for a Saturday but nice. Sometimes a moment of quiet was all that was needed. An escape.
Jude sat on a bench with his legs folded Indian style and his sketchbook on his lap. His green eyes moved idly over the surroundings and only occasionally flicked back down to the sketchbook. The page it was open to was blank and had been so for about the last half hour. He had come to the park hoping that the fresh air and a change of scenery would bring him a little inspiration. It hadn’t. Not even close. He had started a picture on the previous page of two older gentlemen playing chess but, disappointed with it, he had left it unfinished. His thoughts were just…elsewhere. He was too distracted to draw anything of worth.
It had been a day since he had last seen Demetrius and Jude was beginning to have doubts. One moment he’d feel so breathlessly happy it should be embarrassing and then the next…the next he’d worry he was doing the right thing. Maybe it wasn’t possible to feel this way about someone he was only just beginning to know. Maybe he was imagining it, desire and loneliness creating feelings he wished for. And yet…what he felt for Demetrius was so strong--so intense. It had to be real. He felt like a small boat moored in the middle of a storm. Violent waters pulled him this way and that, threatening to snap the rope that held him in place. Thunder clouds crashed overhead, lightening flashed, and water pounded down from gray skies. He was helpless, at the storm’s mercy. It was terrifying and it was thrilling. He was taking a risk and he wanted to take it with every fiber of his being. But…was he wrong in wanting it? Was he making a mistake in going after it? It wasn’t…it wasn’t too late to end it. He could--He shook his head; call him selfish or just plain stupid but he wasn’t willing to give it up.
Jude bit down on his bottom lip and his gaze returned to his sketchbook. Thoughts warred with one another. He wondered if he should say anything to his ghosts. He hadn’t yet. Whether it was because he feared (and knew) what they were going to say or that he wanted to keep this as only his for a little while longer he didn’t know. But he did need someone to talk to. It was pathetic how few friends he had. Few being none, of course. A quiet sigh escaped and he pushed the thoughts away, trying to tuck them back in some corner of his mind. Leave them there for now; dwelling would only make him question himself more and he didn’t want that right now. Not when thinking of Demetrius could make his heart race the way it did. With nothing solved and worries still looming over him, he dragged the pencil across the white sheet of paper and began to draw.