Chapter Nine
Leron Angelo's POV
It was afternoon already. I am currently inside my art room, sketching. I really wanted to paint a person right now. I know I can just use one of my parents as my model, but I am still not confident with my hands and painting. What if it didn't turn out well? It's embarrassing. Even if they are my parents. My own flesh and blood.
And yes, I prefer to paint someone besides my parents. Just someone, anyone. I can pay them, I have my allowance and ain't short with it anyway.
Earlier in school, nothing much really happened. It's just almost the same as yesterday. Declan being suspicious, getting friendlier with me. But I discovered something new about him today.
That he had a tattoo on his middle finger, it is not that visible because he's covering it with his ring. I found it when I caught him playing with his ring that time. He noticed me staring at his hand, and to my surprise he let me have a near and clear view of his small butterfly tattoo on his middle finger.
I was blushing hard while he let me stare and caress at it. I hope he had not noticed it though. It will be very embarrassing.
“Knew you'd be here.” I almost flinch on my seat when the sudden voice of Arson echoed inside my art room. I sigh and glare at the cause of it.
“Hey, you really didn't know how to knock huh.” I sarcastically said.
“Man I've been doing that for almost a decade now. You have to get used to it. Really.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I said and get back with sketching a human face.
But so far I have only been able to draw up a neck and shoulders. No look, no face. I sigh heavily. It's so hard, but I still want to do it.
“So what's up with you and with your paintings? You look like you're in trouble.” I almost forgot that Arson is actually in here. The man sat on the ground near me and open the chips he's been holding on.
I look at him and explain to him what's bothering me.“Lately, I decided to paint a human. A person, but I really can't do it without a model.” I whine after, slapping my drawing book on to my forehead. Expecting that ideas will come flow out after doing it, but nothing...
Is this what they called the artist's block? No, definitely not. How can I call myself an artist, when I don't even know where to start from painting a person?
Arson suddenly stand up, I watch him walk and stop infront of me. He snatch away the sketch book in my hands and face it to me, and set it beside him. And then he started posing like he was a model of some briefs.
I get what he meant. Actually he's right, I can just take him as my model and the problem will be solved. But whenever I am remembering what he did to my latest painting last summer, my mind is going blank.
How can I start sketching if my mind is blank?
I know that he was super drunk that day, but please, I spent my whole day finishing the poor paint and he's just going to pee-wee on it?
No, ain't letting him go with it. Ever.
I gave him a dumbfounded look and start putting my things together. His jaw drop, I snatch away my sketch book from him. I'm done for today, I cannot think of anything anymore.
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Just A Typical Gay Story [ BxB ]
Ficção AdolescenteREMINDER: Switching Point of Views I know this is so unprofessional of me (not that I'm really a professional writer though), to suddenly change the title in the middle of updating a story. But I just realized that the title is not really connected...