The Coffee Shop Sketch
The rain was pouring heavily in London. Arjun sat in his favorite corner of "The Old Bean," a small, cozy coffee shop. He was an architect, but his real passion was sketching. With a cup of black coffee and a sketchbook, he felt at home.
Suddenly, the door opened with a chime. A girl rushed in, shaking her wet umbrella. She was wearing a yellow raincoat that looked like a splash of sunshine in the gray weather. Her name was Meera.
The First Encounter
Meera looked around and saw that the shop was packed. The only empty seat was across from Arjun. She walked over tentatively.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" she asked with a polite smile.
Arjun looked up. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. Her eyes were bright, and she had a small paint stain on her cheek. "No, it's free. Please, sit," he said, clearing his pens.
For the next twenty minutes, there was silence—but a comfortable one. Arjun was sketching the window, and Meera was reading a book. Arjun found himself looking at her more than the window. He began to draw her profile secretly.
The Connection
"You're very good," Meera said suddenly. Arjun jumped; he hadn't realized she was watching him.
"Oh, I... I was just practicing," he stammered, feeling his cheeks turn red.
Meera laughed. "Don't be shy. I'm an artist too. But I use oils, not pencils." She pointed to the paint on her cheek.
They started talking. They talked about art, the city, and how the rain makes everything look like a painting. Arjun found out that Meera had just moved to the city to open her own gallery. Meera found out that Arjun designed buildings but dreamed of drawing forests.
The Distance
As the rain stopped, Meera stood up. "I have to go. My meeting starts in ten minutes."
Arjun felt a pang of sadness. He didn't want her to leave. "Wait!" he said. He tore a page from his sketchbook—the one with her portrait—and handed it to her. On the back, he had written his phone number.
Meera took it, blushed, and whispered, "I'll call you."
The Wait
Three days passed. Arjun checked his phone every five minutes. He went back to the coffee shop every day, but she wasn't there. He started to think he was too bold. Maybe she didn't like the sketch?
On the fourth day, as he was walking home, his phone buzzed. It was an unknown number.
"The sketch is beautiful, but it's missing one thing," the message read.
"What?" Arjun replied instantly.
"A date for dinner. Tonight at 8?"
The Beginning
They met at a small Italian restaurant. They didn't talk about art this time; they talked about their lives, their families, and their fears.
Years later, Arjun and Meera stood in a large art gallery. It was Meera's biggest show. In the center of the room, there was a framed, slightly wrinkled piece of paper. It was the sketch from the coffee shop.
Arjun put his arm around her. "Best drawing I ever made," he whispered.
Meera leaned her head on his shoulder. "And the best coffee I ever had."