It was a nice day at the school. You were in the art room after school as per usual thinking of what to put on the blank canvas. You had all your paints out on the pallet, yet nothing came to mind. "I hate art block." You say sighing. You stared at the canvas thinking of anything during school that happened that you could get inspiration from. You thought about how weird people were acting and how different things were from memory but you just wrote it off as a vivid dream. You thought about it all more and decided that would make for a good painting.
You stared painting away and it was well past dark when you were done. You felt delighted with the how the results of your labor and imagination look. You set the pallet down along with the brush softly as it made a light click sound when it touched the table. All the sudden you felt something behind you and you turned around.
There was a paint brush? Why was it floating? As you wondered all this I wrote on a table "that's a really nice painting you got there!"
Despite how weird this was you laugh a bit and said "thank you? Why are you here.. flying paint brush?"
It stayed still for a moment and wrote "You can call me brushy!"
You looked at if for about 10 seconds and said, "well then Brushy, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you." You didn't know why but you held your hand out as if for a hand shake. But instead of that the brush turned your hand where your palm was facing the ground. Then it put the soft brush to your skin. You sensed that for brushy that was it kissing your hand and for a reason you don't know, your face started to heat up.
Brushy finally removed itself from your hand after what seemed like an eternity. A nice eternity. Brushy wrote "I hope to see you're beautiful face again soon~" and just as it came, it left. And you were left standing there with your face heating up more and more as you comprehend what just happened.
