04 | handsome stranger

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CHAPTER 4

Familiar. Comfortable. Predictable.

All words that could be used to describe the path that I took to get home.

I knew everybody that walked down these streets, from Florence and her dog to Bill and his granddaughter.

The cobbled pavements greeted me and my well worn soles every time we met because I came here that often.

So imagine my surprise when I lifted my gaze from my favourite pavements to be met with the unblinking blue eyes of a complete stranger.

With a face that housed smooth pale skin, a ridiculously sharp jawline and lips that slightly turned up at the corners, he was easily the most attractive man I'd ever seen.

And he was looking directly at me with an intensity that I couldn't shake off.

As if in that moment, I was the only thing that existed.

Panic seized control of my judgement and I dashed down an alley that didn't even lead to my apartment.

"Who on earth was that?" I thought to myself as my heart pounded in my ears.

He didn't look like he belonged in this neighbourhood and I definitely would've remembered seeing a face like his.

I paused for a second to go over what had just happened and mentally scolded myself for reacting so crazily.

The poor guy was probably just minding his own business.

People can stare off into space.

That's what he was doing Cora, you're reading too much into it.

Feeling satisfied with my conclusion, I shook myself out of whatever spell I had clearly been under and returned to my usual path.

I placed my headphones back onto my ears, increasing the volume until the music had drowned out my loud thoughts.

The slight bounce in my step returned as I lost myself in my playlist.

Good music has the same power as a good book in the sense that it allows you to be someone else for however long it lasts.

I began my journey in New York City circa the early 2000's as a soulful, R&B style voice filled my ears, finishing in 19th century New Orleans through the power of jazz.

As the last song came to an end I found myself back in London, standing in front of the high rise concrete building that housed my apartment and countless others.

My hands twisted the door handle, swinging the door open to reveal my tastefully decorated living space.

Being low on money hadn't stopped me from being creative with how I furnished rooms, and I took pleasure in making pieces that looked far more expensive than they really were.

My eyes found the drapes hanging from the window, perfectly matching with the carpet that lay proudly against the pine floor.

I had painted them myself, a leaf print that casted beautiful shadows onto the ground whenever the sun decided to make an appearance.

Today was one of those days, the heat so intense I could feel it even from the safe confines of my house.

I needed something to cool me down.

- - - -

I spooned a bite of vanilla cheesecake into my mouth and groaned in satisfaction.

My obsession with sweet foods was slowly growing out of hand.

If it was sugary or chocolatey, it was probably in my mouth right now.

The only reason that my body was able to maintain its curves and I remained toned in all the right places was my job at the cafe.

It was unbelievable the amount of speed walking that needed to be done as a waitress in order to avoid customers getting angry and impatient.

A glance at the table had me noticing that my phone was buzzing with an incoming call from Ivy.

I accepted it immediately, always happy to hear from the one tolerable member of my family.

"Hey sis!" She said with an obvious smile in her voice.

"Hi Ivy!" I responded with equal excitement.

My sister Ivy was older than me by 2 years and I had spent pretty much the entirety of my childhood living in her shadow.

As a doctor in a serious relationship, she was the golden child and I was the metaphorical ugly duckling.

As much as I wanted to, her bubbly personality and willingness to do anything for anyone made it impossible for me to hate her.

"Have you heard from Mum and Dad recently?" she asked.

It's hard for them to get in touch when I keep declining their calls.

"No." I said roughly.

"You can't ignore them forever." She said, ever the voice of reason.

"Watch me." I replied in something close to a growl.

Once I've made my mind up about something, I tend to stick to it fiercely. My separation from my family would be no exception.

The rest of the call featured easy, light hearted conversation about everything from my new set of oil pastels to the 'rustic' lamp she had bought for her bedroom.

I found my eyes drifting to the easel resting against the wall and I was suddenly overcome with the urge to pour my feelings onto a canvas.

This wasn't out of the ordinary, and inspiration frequently struck at the randomest of times. It was just unusual for it to happen while I was speaking to Ivy, since she was one of the few people who I actually enjoyed interacting with.

I didn't want to stop to think about the significance of that, instead desperate to have a brush in my hand.

As if she could sense my loss of focus, Ivy ended the call with the promise of another one soon.

I hurriedly gathered a few paintbrushes and my favourite watercolours, vowing to allow myself as much creative freedom as possible since I often struggled with a need to have perfection in every painting.

In that moment my arms had a mind of their own, frantically adding dabs and strokes to the white sheet.

I was prepared to end up with a portrait of my parents, or even the angry muddle of colour that I had been constantly producing for the past few days.

What I wasn't expecting however, was for the face that had been haunting me ever since I saw it to appear on the canvas.