A prince doesn't fight - dnf

Chapter 3

--------------------------✧---------------------------

It was now evening. Clay and I had talked a lot this day. We had some smalltalk, nothing special. But it still distracted me in some way. I really liked talking to Clay. He understood everything I said, we laughed, we talked about deeper things and got to know us. 

But then it was evening. My father would leave now, and I was very scared. I was startled when I heard a knock on the door, which must have come from my father. I knew Clay could see how scared I was. I mean, I was very pale and a little bit shaky, very obvious. 

The door got pushed open and I saw my father, the sun was reflecting in his golden armor, which covered some leather pants and a fitting shirt. He looked really royal, just like a king. I very much wanted to follow him, but literally everyone in the castle could stop me, which includes Clay. I don't have the slightest chance against him. 

My father looked at me with an encouraging smile. I tried to smile back, but my eyes filled with tears. I hoped he would return to me, alive.

"George, it's gonna be okay. I will see you in some weeks.", he said, still smiling. I just nodded. He pulled me into a tight hug, which lasted for about 6 seconds, then he made his way downstairs. My eyes focused back on Clay. He also had this encouraging smile on his lips. But his smile wasn't that annoying, it actually made me feel safe. 

"Hey George, you said I could paint you.", he randomly spoke. Now he had a huge smile on his face. I blushed slightly. It was probably the best thing not to think about my father or anything, I had to focus on my plan anyways. 

"Uhm.. Sure. Now?", I asked him. "If you want to." "Yes, why not. What do I do"

"Maybe you could just sit on your chair and I will sit on your bed. is that okay?", he asked, nervously scratching his back. I nodded and took place on my wooden chair. It was actually quite comfortable, so I turned around to see Clay taking a pencil and a sketch book out of his bag. 

He quietly sat down on my bed and started sketching doodling something on his block. He was very focused on drawing, but sometimes he would look up at me and study every of my features.

To be honest, I felt a little bit exposed. At some time he laid his pencil on my bed and started patterning my face. When his eyes wandered to my eyes, I saw his lips lifting up a bit. After glancing at me for what felt like 5 hours, he made some final changes and looked up at me again.

"Finished?", I asked.

"Yes, I am.", he spoke in a deep, serious voice. I hadn't heard him speaking for a while so his voice triggered a weird feeling in my stomach.

Then Clay patted the place next to him on the bed. I got up and sat on the place, his hand had laid before. "I think this is actually my best work so far.", he spoke again.

"let me see.", I said excited. I wasn't expecting something too good, maybe a little better than my drawings, but I had never expected what I saw afterwards.

He placed the block in my hands and my eyes widened. 

The picture was all just made with one pen. Everything was detailed and you could exactly see that it was me. It was a little bit messy, but I guess that's his art style.

I adored every feature of the drawing. it looked so fricking good. And I am not gonna lie, this was very hot. Guys who draw are always hot, just saying facts.

He even hit my eyes perfectly. The picture looked so alive that I got lost.

"So.. you like it?", he asked, nervously laughing.