It's a tale unaltered by time or memory, true to what happened in reality.
We all have read about carefree boy and introvert girl trope penned by authors but how was it in real life ?
As you delve into these pages, at end of my each poetry , I'll s...
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I reached into my bag and retrieved my file, a collection of my sketches that I had poured my heart and soul into. I handed it to Saara with a smile. "There you go," I said.
Drawing was my passion, my escape, my way of expressing myself. I loved to create anything with my pencil - paintings, sketches, silhouettes - but sketching was my speciality. Saara and I had bonded over our shared love for sketching and we had decided to swap our files and see each other's work.
Saara opened the file and scanned the pages, her eyes widening with admiration. Dhriti leaned over her shoulder and gasped dramatically. "Who are you?" she exclaimed in a mock-serious tone. "These are so amazing!"
Saara nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with admiration. "You need to teach me how to draw like this," she said.
I smiled, feeling a warm glow of happiness. They looked so adorable with their expressions of awe and wonder. They were my best friends and they valued my talent.
"Yeah, and you both should join the theatrics ," I joked, poking fun at their dramatic reactions.
"Wait, go back, that was cool," a familiar voice interrupted us. We all looked up and saw Aadarsh turned around from his seat, as usual, poking his nose into our business. He was eyeing the file with interest.
Dhriti went back to the page where I had sketched a guy with a hood covering his face. It was one of my favorite sketches, mysterious and intriguing. "Isn't she so talented? This is so good," she said, sounding sincerely impressed.
"Is this really yours?" he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief that I had made it.
"Someone is too blind to see the signature she has signed off her sketches with," Saara said teasingly.
"Worry about your own sight, Mendes," Aadarsh said. He always called her Mendes, since everyone in our class knew that she was the biggest Shawn Mendes fan. She had even written poems about him and they were all lyrical and lovely.
"I also like to draw, though I'm not as good as you," Aadarsh said, snatching the file from Dhriti's hand and flipping through the pages.
"Really?" I felt a spark of joy to discover more about him and that we shared a common hobby. "Could you bring some of your drawings maybe?" I asked, eager to see some of his work.
"Well, do you really think I would have arranged them all so neatly like you? I'll see if I can
Dhriti and I flipped through Saara's sketching file, marveling at her beautiful drawings. She had sketched almost three portraits of Shawn Mendes with incredible details. Her sketches were impressive, especially the ones of Shawn Mendes. It was obvious that she had put more effort into those.
"I love all of them, they are really good," I said, complimenting her. "I wish I could draw like you both. I can hardly draw a straight line," Dhriti complained.
Dhriti and Saara had gone to talk to the office about their fee, leaving me alone at my seat. I continued to flip through Saara's sketches.
Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of me, holding a piece of paper. I was so used to this by now. Of course, it was Aadarsh.
"Well, how is it?" Aadarsh asked. I looked at the piece of paper again. He had drawn a bouquet of tulips and daisies. It was actually pretty. He was really good at drawing too.
He had a knack for details. The shadows, the shape of the leaves and flowers, the shading. It was a lovely drawing of the bouquet.
I gazed at the charming drawing he had made, feeling a surge of admiration. "You're amazing, you know that? You really are good at everything," I complimented him.
He furrowed his brow, puzzled by my words. "Everything?" he repeated, unsure what I meant. I bit my lip, realizing I had let something slip. "Like singing," I blurted out. He looked at me with curiosity and surprise. "Have you ever heard me sing?" he asked.
I felt a flush of heat on my cheeks as I confessed. "Well, not exactly. I mean, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I was outside the classroom when you were singing Perfect that day. I'm sorry," I whispered, hoping it wont bother him.
He smiled and shook his head. "Its cool, don't apologize. So, did you like it?" he asked eagerly. I met his eyes and felt a flutter in my chest. "I loved it," I said sincerely. "You have a beautiful voice. I hated when you stopped singing."
"That's sweet, thank you," he grinned. That grin would be the death of me. He turned back in the front, leaving his little drawing in my hands.
I tapped his shoulder. "Your drawing," I said as I extended my hand to return it to him.
"Keep it. It's for you," he said, purposely winking at me. He knew what he was doing. My pale cheeks flushed with warmth and my heart raced at twice its normal pace.
The innocence and purity of teenage love was overwhelming, yet so foolish.
I struggled to contain the smile that spread across my face. It was impossible not to beam with joy all throughout the day.
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i hope the second one is recognizable , i started it an year ago , still haven't completed it , Also it was my first time making the beard , so be kind with that , hahaha
I have plenty more sketches , i just don't have them in my phone right now , but i will surely post them in the end of this book.
