ᴏʙᴇʏ ᴍᴇ || ᴏɴᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ

♡ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀꜱ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ꜱᴀᴛᴀɴ ♡

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"So where do you want to put this?" you ask the Avatar of Wrath with a strained voice as you try find a spot quickly to place one of the wooden easels that you carry in your hands. It's not too heavy but it isn't the lightest thing in the world either.

Satan follows closely behind you while he carries the other and notices your struggles. "I suppose here's just fine so how about we stop for now?" he sets the easel down in the centre of the living room.

Just as he does, you also put down the one that you've carried all this way and stretch your back after having put in a tiring amount of effort into moving the easel. You place your hands on your hips and stare at the wooden stand while cocking your head slightly to the side, "You wanted to move these here because...?"

He snaps his fingers in realisation, "Right. Wait here for a minute, I'll be back."

Obliging to his wishes, you watch Satan walk off in a hurry. While he takes his time to return, you take the opportunity to carefully observe the easels and inspect the dust-coated edges of the old art equipment that you had pulled out the attic last minute. Satan never mentioned why he wanted to use them now so you're still left to ponder.

He comes back with answers as he holds two decently sized fabric canvases under the wing of his arm and a wooden tuckbox in his other hand. You step towards him and take the canvases off him to lessen the load he has to carry as he places the tuckbox on the floor and reveals what's inside with a rusty swing of the lid.

"Acrylic paint?" you eagerly take a green paint tube out yourself and read all the labels written on the back of it while placing the canvases down on the easels. "Where'd you get these from, and were they expensive? They look like they cost a lot."

"They didn't, though I'd understand why you'd think that," Satan moves the box closer to you. "I mean, look at all these colours, (MC). There's all the possible shades you can think of, it's amazing that we'll be painting with these."

You're uncertain of when he bought the pricey looking acrylic paint but you know that Satan's been interested in artworks for a while now. He even took you to an art gallery just last week so you know painting is something he's now intrigued by. Still, his sudden passion for art is obviously up for questioning, especially for someone whose nose is always hidden behind a book.

"Satan," you start off while the Avatar of Wrath squeezes small spots of each colour on to a palette that was also in the tuckbox. "Since when did you like painting?"

He pauses for a moment. "Reading is fun, but not when you already know what to expect," he doesn't take his eyes off the palette as he answers. "(MC), I've finished all the books that this house has to offer so I've ordered a new collection of books and I'm waiting for them to arrive. In the meantime, why not try a new hobby?"

Now that you think about, you do recall him ranting about how he'd ran out of books to read not too long ago, during dinner at the dining table, and rereading didn't seem like an option for the time being.

With everything cleared up, you clap your hands and rub them together, "So that's what this is. Well, let's get started then. And who knows, maybe you'll like this better than reading."

He chuckles lightly, "Maybe I will."

Having already grabbed aprons earlier, Satan hands you one before he removes his jacket and dons his own, then ties a neat ribbon behind to properly finish wearing the apron. You don't have as much ease with tying up the strings at the back as your fingers struggle to tie them together without having any sight of what you're doing.

"(MC), I'll help you. Hold still," he places a hand on your shoulder then begins to tie up the knot for you as you stand and remain still, obeying the given instructions. Satan finishes up with the ribbon and smiles, "Done, you can move now."

One grateful grin from you is enough to let him know of your thanks.

You have to admit, with an apron and an empty canvas in front of you, you feel like a proper artist and you're even more motivated to paint than before. Your enthusiasm prompts you to get started quickly and you pick up one of the paintbrushes nearby from a cup holding all the art tools you've collected around the house.

Satan places the palette of colours down on a small circular table between you two for both of you to share. Ready to spill his creativity onto the blank surface in front of him, he rolls up his sleeves to prevent it from gathering any stains then begins his artwork with a swift stroke of his brush.

Seeing the Avatar of Wrath start off, you follow his lead and prepare to paint the first thing comes to mind with him standing beside you. You begin by drawing the face of a small black and white kitten, then its body with little dark patches among its light fur.

All runs smoothly and silence fills the room as you and Satan concentrate only on your paintings, too busy to even communicate with each other apart from the occasional question about borrowing what the other has in their hands.

Over what feels like another hour passes and you're done with your masterpiece. With the back of your hand, you wipe your forehead to rid of the beads of sweat before they can travel down your face then turn to Satan to see what he's done so far.

As soon as your eyes lay on his array of colours on a canvas, they widen with amazement and your mouth hangs open from the all the skill shown in one single portrait. You lean in closer to take a look at the scenery he has painted that's most probably inspired by one of the many books that he has read.

"Wow! You never told me you were this good!" you exclaim, still admiring what's in your sights. "You've definitely had practise."

He smiles, flustered by your compliments. "I'm glad you think I have talent. I'll have you know you're pretty good at this as well. Look at the little kitten you painted," he says softly while in fascination. "It's so cute- Oh," he lifts his hand to hide his chuckles once he spies a stroke of paint on your face.

"What?" you're still unaware of the embarrassing stain. "What's so funny?"

Satan takes a step towards you and holds your face in his palm. "You have a little paint on your cheek. Don't bother wiping it, it'll only make it worse. I have a better idea."

He dips his finger in the black paint on the palette and adds more stokes onto your face to form small whiskers, just like a kitten. To finish off, a pink spot on your nose completes the look and Satan's face burns red.

"How adorable you look," he rubs his chin. "You look just like the kitten you painted."

You laugh at the amusing comparison then lightly kiss his lips. "If you like it so much then why don't you keep it? And I'll keep yours, so I can imagine us together with that scenery in front."

Fond of the idea, he grins and nods. "I'd like that. I'll hang it in my room so I can see it everyday. To remind me of you, (MC)."