"Art doesn't just get created on its own." you explained with hand gestures as you reached into the small painted can filled with various types of paintbrushes.

I would've thought you would've grabbed the biggest brush or maybe even the cleanest, but instead you got the smallest one that was covered completely in paint.

I smiled, realizing that I was completely impressed with your choice.

Casey had raised her hand, making me roll my eyes as you chuckled.

My lips parted for I didn't mean for you to see that. You then said, "You're question Casey?"

She cleared her throat as she puckered up her lips more and said, "We'll how is art created then Mr. Malik?"

You can hear her nasal voice trying to sound as seductive as possible and though people get annoyed I got to give her credit she did sound pretty seductive.

You cleared your throat, making me look back at you as you stared into my eyes.

You opened your mouth and said, "You to need to imagine it first, and then show it off."


9. zayn

My eyes widened so much that I'm pretty sure they were going to fall out of their sockets. I stared at you as you gave me a look of confusion and something else I couldn't figure out. I let out a small nervous chuckle and took off my beanie, while scratching my head with my free hand. 

"Zayn?" you asked as I bit my tongue from embarrassing myself. Oh if only telling the truth was simple.

"Zayn you have three seconds to answer my question or else I will walk out that door and disappear forever." You threatened as I coughed and said, "Fine."

I then gesture you to take a seat for this was going to take a while to explain. I then point out my index finger to give myself a minute to go get something from my art studio. I walk fast and open the door to my small private studio. The walls were covered in graffiti and my roomed smelled like dried paint. There was a bookshelf filled with sketchbooks, and boxes filled with paints and brushes at the very corner of the room. Towards the window there was a small metal stool and table with a bag of clay next to it. On the table however, contained my satchel that I take to work. I grab it and rush out of the room, making sure I close it as I exit.

As I entered my living room, the curtain was slightly open as you looked outside into the busy city streets. I come and sit next to you, grabbing your attention by putting my hand on your knee. You let go of the curtain and looked at my satchel.

"I don't get it. What does your work satchel have-" I cut you off and explained, "It's my work satchel, yes I get that. Though, when I go to work your there for your classes. 

"I carry around some valuable stuff in this bag, which I was hoping nobody would ever find out about, but I guess it wouldn't be fair to hide something like this from you." I finish as I open the satchel and take out a small sketchbook. Unlike my other sketchbooks, this particular one had a black, leather cover for it, and was made out of a different type of paper. I sigh as I hand my sketchbook over to you, I close my eyes tightly waiting for your horrified response. I felt your hand grab hold of the book as I took in a sharp breath.

"Wait!" I say before you open the book. 

You give me a bizarre look and ask, "What?"

"Before you open this... Just please try to understand that I meant no harm. Also that this must be kept a secret. My sketchbook is like my journal." I finish as you give me a small genuine smile, which I hope would never fade away.

You put your hand on top of mine and say, "I'm sure it's not that bad. Also your secret is safe with me."

"That's what you say now..." I mutter to myself as you glare at me and then at the book.

"I mean it's not like you draw or write porno stuff in here. Although that's not really weird, we're artists and we do this for a living," you said with laughter in your voice. I felt myself relax a little and soon feel a small smirk appear on my own face as I realize that your most likely right.

"I guess you're right. I mean what's the worst that could happen." I say as you smile at me and open the book to its first page.



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