The Difference Between Sparks and Wildfires
"I'm observing." Vick's voice had that lazy drawl, like he had all the time in the world to figure her out. "There's a difference."
Viola didn't flinch. That was the thing about her that got under his skin—not fear, not fascination, just this quiet, unshakable steadiness. She closed her sketchbook.
She held his gaze. "Good."
Viola spotted him from the picnic table, knees tucked under her chin. She wasn't trouble. She was the emergency broadcast system that announced trouble was coming.
He tilted his head. For a second, the smirk flickered. "Honestly? I don't know yet. That's what scares me."
She finally glanced up, pencil hovering. "You're not an artist."
"What do you want, Vick?"
The Difference Between Sparks and Wildfires
"I'm observing." Vick's voice had that lazy drawl, like he had all the time in the world to figure her out. "There's a difference."
Viola didn't flinch. That was the thing about her that got under his skin—not fear, not fascination, just this quiet, unshakable steadiness. She closed her sketchbook. vick (aka vincent) and viola from teenburg
She held his gaze. "Good."
Viola spotted him from the picnic table, knees tucked under her chin. She wasn't trouble. She was the emergency broadcast system that announced trouble was coming. The Difference Between Sparks and Wildfires "I'm observing
He tilted his head. For a second, the smirk flickered. "Honestly? I don't know yet. That's what scares me."
She finally glanced up, pencil hovering. "You're not an artist." She closed her sketchbook
"What do you want, Vick?"