There's silence in the air, occasionally broken by the sound of a pen scribbling on paper.

Tricia Robredo sits across you focused entirely on the paperwork infront of her. The sun's rays hit her in just the right way that you think it would make a good sketch. You take a look at your own paperwork in your hands, and decide that you've done enough that it wouldn't hurt to take a small break. So you set the papers back in your bag by the foot of your chair and pull out a pencil and sketchbook.

Her hair is up in a ponytail as it always is when she's busy, round rimmed glasses slide down occasionally, her coat's hanging on the back of her chair and she's left in her scrubs with the stethoscope still around her neck. "I always keep it on, it's a doctor thing." She once told you when you asked why she never took it off while she's in hospital premises.

You put your pen to the paper, and start sketching. Starting from the basic shapes, then gradually moving up to the finer details. Unfortunately life isn't like the movies, specially not when your muse doesn't know you're committing her memory to paper. Tricia moves around every now and then to switch papers or to start her pen tricks which makes it a nightmare to fully capture the details of her hand in one pose.

The Doctor shifts from her hunched position to lean back on her chair before spinning, and the patience of the artist in you wavers enough that you have to call out to both San Pedro and Allah for extra.

"Parang awa mo na Trish, wag kang malikot!" You whine in desperation.

She stops spinning, and for a second her eyes are confused before she gazes at the sketchbook in your hands and suddenly they light up. Your friend springs up from her chair and in an instant she's leaning over the desk, trying to get as close to you as possible.

"Drina-drawing mo 'ko?!"

Realizing only then that you gave yourself away, and that you didn't ask for her permission if it's alright to sketch her. You're suddenly incapable of meeting her eyes and you scratch the back of your neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry hindi ako nakapag tanong sayo kung okay lang ba... If uncomfortable ka, I can throw the sketch away na lang-" An unbelieving "What?!" makes you snap your head up to look at her.

"Wag naman! Napaka ganda niyang ginawa mo para lang itapon noh!"

"Paano mo alam, di mo pa nga nakikita!"

"Ikaw gumawa, malamang maganda yan."

You look away with your ears and cheeks heating up, and for a few seconds too long your lungs cease to function because the next breath you take feels short and strangled.

"Can I see it? Kung okay lang sayo siyempre..."

You look back at Tricia before gently handing her the sketchbook, she takes it from you with hands that hold your on-going art compilation as if it was made of glass. She sits back on her chair, and it swivels just enough that you're seeing her from a diagonal point of view. Tricia looks at the sketch in wonder, eyes roaming across the page and taking in every single detail.

She lifts a hand to trace the pages but before her fingertips can touch the paper, her movement ceases and she brings that hand to hold the sketchbook instead. "I wouldn't want to smudge the graphite..."

Moments of silence pass with her looking at your work with the intent of committing everything to memory before Tricia gently shuts the sketchbook and hands it back to you.

"You're an amazing artist Y/N. Maraming salamat at pinag sipagan mong pagandahin ako."

"Even if they tried, wala nang mas gaganda pa sayo..." You think to yourself. Taking the sketchbook back from her, you give a wholehearted smile in return before putting your art materials back in your bag and taking out your paperworks. Before going back to work you take a deep breath, garnering the courage to rebut her backhanded praise.

"Well di ko na kinailangan mag effort actually... Sobrang ganda na kasi ng muse ko."

Tricia's eyes shut close as she recovers from the unexpected banat. Completely missing the look in your eyes that would've shown just how far you've fallen.

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