A dark haired man sat on a stool, alone in the middle of a large room with a high ceiling. The walls were bare except for a few canvas's leaning on them. One of his feet was planted on the ground, the other rested on the bottom most rung of the stool. Darien could feel the comfortable weight of his hammer in one hand and the chisel in another. The faint sound of some classical music played from the stereo placed in one corner, but he didn't hear it. Rather, Darien's cold blue eyes stared at the unmarred piece of dark marble that stood in front of him. With a groan, he leaned forward, placing his forehead against the cool stone.
He had sat like this nearly every day for the past month and a half. The large, solid chunk of marble had been delivered there nearly a year ago when he had agreed to complete a sculpture for a private institute. Of course, he had put it off at the time, thinking there was plenty of time to get it done. Of course, he had been with Rei at the time. Darien swiveled his head and stared at a painting leaning against the wall to the left. There, the dark haired woman he had been married to for 3 years laughed at him, taunting him. Her dark blue eyes, almost purple in color, stared up and away from him, her hair streaming out behind her. Darien sighed as he remembered coming home to find her clothes mixed with another mans strewn all over the floor of their apartment. It was almost as if she had wanted to be caught.
After that, Darien's creativeness had got cut off. It was as if someone had put a stopper in it. Darien closed his eyes and banged his head against the stone. He immediately regretted it, as he dropped the chisel to the ground and brought his hand up to cradle his head. He needed to get out of that room, and he knew it. Laying his hammer down near where the chisel had fallen, he stood, wincing slightly as the movement made his temple throb. He stalked to the radio, slamming the stop button and then left the studio, locking the door behind him.
Darien left the building and made his way down two blocks, the sound of the surf drawing him. One good thing about working downtown, he had discovered long ago, was being so close to the beach. He stood on the sidewalk that bordered onto the sand and stretched before pulling his sunglasses from the neck of his shirt and putting them on his face. The dark glass made the world look slightly alien, and he looked over the darkened water towards the horizon, which he traced with his eyes before it dissapeared from view behind a multi-storied building a little way down the beach. He looked back at the beach, watching the crowd of people.
That's when he saw her. He nearly missed her the first time, but did a double take when he realized what he was seeing. Taking his sunglasses from his face to make sure it wasn't just an effect caused by them, he allowed his mouth to hang open slightly. She was perfect. Her face was symmetrical, her eyebrows arched slightly over baby blue eyes, she had a snub little nose, and her pink lips were perpetually in a slight pout. Her chin was resting on her shoulder as she watched the people up the beach. She was wearing a pink and red bikini which left nothing to the imagination, so he could see her breasts - were those D's, he wondered - were in perfect proportion to her slim but healthy waist. Her blonde hair hung in a braid down to the middle of her back, and he could see that it would be layered when it was free, with the tips of the bottom layers dyed a bright red. An interesting choice, but one that seemed to fit her he decided. He followed the line of her spine down to where it dissappeared into her bikini bottoms and continued on to her perfectly rounded bottom.
Darien realized he was nearly salivating over her and quickly snapped his jaw shut, but then swallowed heavily when the thought of speaking to her entered his mind. Like most artists, he enjoyed women, and liked to study them and speak with them, but when faced with a specimen as perfect as the one he saw in front of him, he just couldn't imagine even being in her presence. He watched as she turned to look out over the water, leaning back on her hands as she did so. He sighed as he realized staring at her was going to get nothing done.
"It's now or never, buddy," he muttered to himself, then took off over the sand. The bottoms of his sandals slapped against his heels, spraying sand over his calfs. He could feel the warmth of the crystals as they clung to his leg hair, but his mind was focused elsewhere. It seemed to take forever before he flopped down on the sand next to her and his voice seemed to be coming from elsewhere as he heard himself say: "Hi, my name is Darien Shields." Her head jerked around and she gave him a dark look.
"Whatever you want, I'm not interested," she stated. Her voice, even though she sounded annoyed, was still tinkling, and he could imagine what it sounded like when she was happy.
"Well, I don't think you've gotten an offer like this before," he said, wondering if he sounded forward. Her eyebrows knit in agitation; he guessed she was used to turning away strange men. "I don't want to sleep with you, I promise," he held up his hands defensively, hoping to ward off her anger. "I'm an artist. I need some inspiration for a sculpture, and, well, I saw you and thought you'd be perfect."
"Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before," she snorted.
"Someone's used that as a pick up line?" Darien asked incredulously. "Wow, I really need to get out more often; but really, I am. Here, here's my card, maybe you've heard of my work," he said, digging out an old business card from his wallet and handing it to her. She took it and frowned as she looked at it. "I'll be going now, but please at least think about my offer. I'm willing to pay you even. Give me a call at the number on the card if you have second thoughts," he stated, standing up and brushing the sand from his shorts. He turned and headed towards the concrete strip in the distance, not bothering to look back. He knew the attempt was futile, but for the slight chance he had at carving her into the stone that sat in his studio, he was willing to try.
'Dude, you need coffee,' he thought to himself. Heading back towards his studio, he stopped into the cafe that was across the street.
"Hey Darien, what can I get you?" a brown haired woman asked from behind the counter as he walked in.
"Large coffee, two sugars please Lita," he said, plopping into a stool. Darien watched as the tall woman poured the hot drink, stirring it for him before placing it in front of him.
"Found anybody yet to model for you?" she asked, leaning against the counter as Darien took a sip. He shook his head and she grinned. "You know, I'd always be willing to help you out." Darien smiled at her and gently patted her hand.
"Thanks for the offer, but I don't think you're what my client is looking for," he said, noting the lankiness of her body beneath the apron she wore at work. "But don't worry about me, I'm working on it," she nodded and headed down the counter. Darien turned to lean against the counter and stared out the front windows of the cafe, wondering what in the world he was really going to do now that his deadline was creeping ever closer.
A/N: Just an idea I had while watching a movie the other day. Let me know what you think and if I get a positive outlook I'll put up another chapter.