I haven't been inspired to write Haleb for a while. My multi-chapter story has been finished for a couple of months an I'm just in the stages of editing it now, but I decided that I should try to get back involved with them. So here we go, here's my attempt!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor am I an artist of any kind, so I may use the wrong terminology for things in here, and I'm sorry if that's the case.

Caleb Rivers was in his second year of art school when Hanna Marin stepped into the studio as the nude model. He had been drawing for years, and he had taken life drawing classes since he was sixteen, where he had sketched both male and female in partial dress, or in the nude. Sure, some of them had been attractive, and he could recognize that, but he was able to put that aside to focus on the art, to separate himself.

That was until Hanna had slipped out of the robe she was wearing, completely unabashed of her nakedness as she stepped into the middle of the room and looked toward the teacher for direction. He advised her of how to stand, giving her a quick smile before turning to address the students in the class to introduce her briefly and then told them to commence. Caleb's lips parted as the blonde sat down on the stool, arching her back once and wiggling around slightly to get comfortable before she parted her knees, exposing herself, and then putting both hands in front of her, folding them over each other on the stool between her legs, covering herself again. Her lips were slightly parted, her hair was falling around her face, and her blue eyes were gleaming as she froze, this time clearly not her first as a model.

Everyone in the room began on their art work with whatever medium they used—paint, pencil or charcoal—but Caleb still felt as though he was stuck, staring at her. She wasn't facing him directly, and her eyes were carefully trained directly forward so she wasn't able to see he was staring at her so intently, and he was grateful for that, because it was pretty clear that it was just straight out ogling he was doing.

Finally—when the girl next to him dropped a couple of her pencils to the ground with a clatter—he finally came back to his senses and picked up his charcoal.

Hanna was going to be their model for the next six weeks, so twice a week for two hours each time, Caleb had the girl in front of him. Each week it was a different pose, and Caleb took the chance to also do individual sketches of her eyes, the curve of her back, the flex of her arm, her elegant fingers. Even when he was at home, after he had finished his classes for the day, everything about the blonde was burnt into his memory, and he was shifting to pencils and sketching a couple of rough outlines of her. Charcoal was his main medium, he felt as though he could bring out so much more depth when he used it, but when he was going off his memory, the shading of the pencil was softer, and he spent far more time on the waves of her hair than he usually would.

He had mentioned a blonde girl doing nude modelling to his roommate, Toby Cavanaugh, more than once, and one of those times, his girlfriend, Spencer Hastings, had been studying in their flat, had said that sounded like her friend Hanna. Caleb would deny to this day that he let out a squeak of excitement when he confirmed the girl who was modelling was named Hanna. Spencer had laughed and shown Caleb a photo of the blonde on her phone and he knew that Toby was going to mock him forever and day about how his eyes had widened.

So at least he knew that even once she was no longer modelling for his class, he had a chance to run into her later on.

No, more than a chance.

Because he was going to beg and plead and bribe Spencer to set them up a proper meeting when Hanna was fulling clothed so that he had a chance of actually speaking when he was in her presence. He made white chocolate and lemon muffins that Spencer absolutely loved and Caleb had no problem withholding them and using them to his advantage.

It was the last day of the semester, and it was also the last day of this particular life modelling class. Which meant it was the last time in probably some time that he was going to see Hanna. When he came into the class, he took his seat behind his easel like he always did, and set up his latest piece of work. His fingers were perpetually stained with charcoal, and Toby was always complaining that he left smear marks over their benches and furniture because he didn't wash them properly when going between his art and then other things. He set up his work when Hanna came in and took off her robe and got into the pose she had been in all week. She was in a high backed chair with one leg up on the chair, covering one breast with her arm slung above her head, resting on the back of the chair.

At one point, it looked as though she was meeting his gaze when he looked over the top of his easel to study her again, but the next time he looked up, her eyes were fixed on the back of the classroom again. He put it down to his overactive imagination when it came to the blonde, because that wasn't the first time that he had thought that she was looking at him only to look back up and see her looking blankly ahead again.

The thought of her posing for him privately made his cheeks flush, and he quickly had to divert his attention back to where he was stroking his charcoal across the paper. He also kind of wanted to have hot chocolate with her and watch his favourite TV show, snuggled up with her on the couch.

After class finished and Hanna got up to leave and get dressed. Caleb was packing his things away when he felt a presence behind his shoulder. He assumed that it was his art teacher, and turned around—completely unprepared to have Hanna standing there, looking unfairly beautiful in a pair of jeans, a soft green sweatshirt with her hair hanging in loose waves around her face. Her pretty pink lips were quirked upwards in a smile and her eyes were so blue he felt like he could get lost in them if he looked for long enough.

"Hi," she stated.

"H—hey," Caleb managed to say, clearing his throat as he straightened up and rubbed his hand over his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Something must have amused her—probably his stutter—because her smile got a little wider before she continued.

"I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee," she asked with a tip of her head.

"Coffee?" He repeated back to her.

"Yeah, coffee," Hanna's smile got even bigger again and she held up her wallet. "I'll even pay for this round, and if things go well, you can pay next time." Caleb's eyes went wide and he was nodding his head rapidly before he could control himself. "Maybe just..." Hanna reached forward, and her thumb touched his forehead, rubbing over the skin a couple of times before pulling back and he saw that he must have transferred charcoal onto his face when he had pushed his hair out of his face. "Come on," she took a few steps toward the door. "Let's go."

Caleb completely forgot to pack up the rest of his things, grabbing his wallet and keys and practically running after her.

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