A/N: This is for TheGoldenEyes S/he gave me probably the most interesting request and made me think. Thanks! Um, read on!
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize in here is not mine. I own nothing.
Lines. That's all her ever drew. Constant lines. None curvy, none swirly. Only straight. That's what classified a line, right? Because that's all he liked to draw. The lines had to be perfect. They had to; otherwise the entire project would fall apart. And he'd lose his job.
She watched him from the sidelines, rolling her eyes at how determined he was. It was only a few lines. The real work would stay in his head. If they were lightly curved, or maybe even a little longer than necessary, the entire world wouldn't tear at the seams. Everything would be just fine.
Out of the corner of his eye, he'd always watch her. How her hand flew over the paper carelessly, sometimes even falling off the page. She was whimsical and always smiled and laughed, flirting with whatever boy was taking her order of coffee for the day. She would come to the same coffee shop every day, but at different times. Sometimes she would walk in right when he was leaving, other times she would already be working on her project when he walked in. How could she stand it? No order whatsoever to her life.
He would always come to the shop, hair combed in the same neat—as neat as his hair could get, which wasn't much—style, wearing a button-up shirt that was long sleeved, dark pants that were the proper length (not bunching around the ankles or showing his socks too much), and finely polished shoes. He'd never come without supplies, or a sharpener, like she would. She was confused by his nature, which only made her want him more.
She was quite pretty to him, and always sent a flush to his cheeks when she cast him one of her smiles. But he couldn't get involved with her. Love wasn't in his life plan. Love would slow you down, not help you succeed to your highest level possible. And he couldn't let someone, especially a carefree person like her, get into his heart. He wouldn't allow it for it wasn't in his plan. As an architect, he knew you had to follow the plan exactly, or the client wouldn't be happy. He was perfectly happy, without her.
She had been dreaming about him for the first time. And in her art, even though she was trying to do abstract for the day, she could vaguely make out a silhouette of a couple, one two feet shorter than the other. Just like they were, aside from the intimate pose. If only she could catch him when he wasn't working, and maybe have a decent conversation with her.
He wanted to talk to her, possibly. But only if it was for business. The line he was drawing strayed from the ruler and he quickly stopped, erasing it immediately. This had to be perfect . . .
She bit her lip, watching him run an agitated hand through his and gulp his coffee. That meant he was struggling. She shouldn't go over—no, she had already gotten up.
Besides, she thought, I could brighten his day.
He looked up from his work when he heard someone clear their throat. Jolting, he saw her, sitting right across from him.
"May I sit here?" she asked in a voice only an angel could have.
"Y-yes," he nodded.
"I'm Alice," she smiled.
Alice, he thought. What a beautiful name.
"Jasper Whitlock," he replied, shaking Alice's hand.
"So, you like to draw lines, Jasper Whitlock?" she beamed, melting Jasper's heart.
"You've noticed?" he asked, his heart beating unnecessarily fast.
Alice looked down, a light shade of pink flooding her cheeks.
"Yeah," she admitted.
"I'm an architect," Jasper explained, smiling warmly to hope she wasn't as embarrassed as she looked. He could practically feel what she felt. "And I have noticed you draw a lot of lines yourself."
"I'm an artist," Alice smiled.
"Ah," Jasper nodded. "You're quite a good one, I can see."
"Oh, this is nothing," she muttered, blinking rapidly and trying to hide the sketch she had drawn of him. Jasper reached out and stopped her, his hand resting on both of hers. They made eye contact, both feeling an instant connection.
"I like it," Jasper smirked. "Um, are you going to be here tomorrow?"
"Yes," Alice said, looking at him from under her eyelashes. Jasper swallowed audibly.
"Eight o'clock?" Jasper questioned.
"Um, I don't think so," Alice shook her head and Jasper nodded, looking down glumly. It felt like he was being rejected. "I have to go to an art class that time. How about we meet here . . . say, twelve-ish?"
"Twelve-ish?" Jasper raised an eyebrow. He hated the word 'ish'. That wasn't an exact amount or time.
"Yup," Alice nodded, sipping her coffee.
"I'll look forward to it."
A/N: Did you like it? I tried to go with a different style than my usual writing. Not sure if it showed much, but I tried! Sorry it's so short! I think the length's fine, but I know some of you will probably disagree. Um, was this good enough to get a review?
~Eclipse-Vamp :)