Ever since that day, Fiora often found herself thinking about the man she'd met. Roman was so interesting and kind, she was glad that he seemed to like her work, and was willing to have her as a friend. Although she did not understand the significance that having his phone number meant, she was still grateful for it. Although, she hadn't quite found the time or courage to schedule to meet up with him near the place. Staring at her phone, she took out the slip of paper that she'd placed on her bedside table, began tapping the numbers, but before she could hit call, she turned off the phone. It had been like this the last few times, doubts ran through her mind if she were ready to take up such a venture, but she knew she had to work up the courage soon, or at least get some commission work soon or else her ability to pay Roman may dry up.

She still had enough money for a couple months in the cheap apartment she currently called home, but after a broken refrigerator, the amount of money the copper-haired woman had to spend freely had decreased dramatically. Thankfully, she had gotten some commission work, but that was an unstable source of income. She could always get a desk job, but that was an idea that disgusted her, so she deemed it a last resort. The thought of searching for some kind of job did weigh on her mind, but so long as she was able to open her studio, sacrifices would need to be made.

Sighing, Fiora turned her phone on again, checking the clock on the lock screen. 10:48 it read. She stretched before turning her body so her legs came off the bed. With a tiny jump she landed on her feet and began walking toward her closet, took a few garments off the rack and headed to her bathroom to change and brush her teeth and fire-touched locks that ran past her shoulders. After she finished changing and getting ready for the day, she walked down the stairs to the kitchen and poured herself some cereal. Not exactly glamorous, but it was the breakfast of champions.

From beside the door, the young woman threw on a jacket and grabbed an extra pencil to stuff in her pocket before opening the door into the chilled world outside. It hit Fiora's petite body like a truck, but she liked the cold and got used to it fairly quickly. Sketchbook in her messenger bag, a variety of pens and pencils in there as well, the woman was left to her own devices with what to do with the day. Once again, she pulled out her phone from her pocket, pondering on the dilemma of sending a message. Once again, she shoved the cellular device back into her pocket without doing a thing.

However, she did think that maybe she should take another look at the abandoned, decrepit warehouse, or, a much more appealing idea, going to the south side's beach. Going back inside briefly, she emerged with a bicycle and kicked her leg over it as soon as she got to the sidewalk in front of the many affordable houses that were a temporary abode for most. She began to peddle once she was on the bicycle and oriented herself towards the south of Sacrosanct.

Eventually, the crowded city visage began to fade as the small-town-type district unfolded before Fiora's silvery eyes. The sights were wonderful, and the scents were lovely, but she continued pedaling towards the seaside. It was colder there, but all the same, it had been quite some time since she'd drawn water in motion, and as soon as she'd locked up her bike and walked down to the shoreline, she pulled out her sketchbook and a pencil and began her sketching. A part of her wondered if Roman might come out of nowhere and greet her, but she knew that was incredibly unlikely, considering she hadn't spoken to him since they met. She knew he must have been busy and at the moment, almost all of her spare money had gone towards fixing the refrigerator. She had left a voicemail informing him of that much, but hadn't heard from him and was a bit anxious that she may have upset him, so she hadn't tried to contact him since then. However, if he attempted to call her, she had kept her phone close and ringtone on just to be absolutely sure she wouldn't miss him.

The waves crashed as the blue-grey waves lapped up on shore before falling back into the body from which they came, only to attempt again and again to climb onto the shore. Fiora knew it was the story of her life, but continued attempting to capture the seascape. She would investigate the warehouse later, but right now, she just sat on the sand, letting her hand guide her, feeling perfectly calm in the space she had created for herself. The cold attempted to make her uncomfortable, but the chill in her face only made her feel alive, but for her own good, she knew she would have to move around soon, but there were just a few more lines to be made...