Who is the Girl in those Drawings? 【LOOKISM X READER】

A teeny tiny memory, how James gets an idea for his poems.

"So, summer break?" James questions as you leave the school together, side by side, James kicking the tiny rocks that raise from the grounds of the school's quadrangle. School had just ended for the warm season's holiday, hundreds of eager teenagers rushing past you and James as you both take your time, meandering through the zooming crowd.

"Yeah." You say absentmindedly, the answer to James was one of no thought. A simple, one syllable word that tells him everything you need to know; you have something on your mind. Too occupied mentally to answer properly.

James' eyes linger on you for a few seconds as you continue to walk next to each other, your puffed-out cheeks a product of you being deep in thought being seen by him. Though he doesn't say anything, he too has something on his mind. 

You'd been missing school for days at a time. He was worried.

For anyone else, they'd just see this as the typical rebellious fashion every teenager would exhibit at some point in their short-lived lives, but for James... to not have his partner in crime, even if his 'crimes' were hidden to you, was devastating. No one to joke with, no one to smile with, no one to cheekily ponder the principal's badly disguised toupee with. And no one to admire.

No one to admire the way he does with you— the way he admires your lips as they purse when you try to sip the last remnants of your school cafeteria drink, or the way you sometimes exasperatedly skip down the school corridors after a particularly draining math class, or the way you'd have to pull up your school socks to intimidate James into doing your bidding (whether that be trying to steal said principal's toupee off the wig stand in his office or have James do your homework, untruthfully earning an A+ to a class you were barely passing,) it was everything he loved. Everything he lived for. Everything that made you, you.

"Hey, James." You begin, staring straight ahead, as if your eyes refused to look at anything but the tarmac streets in front of you. "People can live without body parts, can't they?" You inquire, seeming somewhat desperate to tap into James' omniscient brain.

James raises an eyebrow at your inquiry, as you finally turn your head to face him, both of you continuing your journey to James' house. "You mean like amputees? Well, of course, but why? Did that street cat get into another fight and lose a different chunk of its ear?" James asks teasingly, a small grin taking place on his lips. He's referring to the tiny grey (the natural colour fur is white, though since it's a stray, the colour has darkened) cat that you sometimes see begging for scraps outside of familial restaurants at the end of the day, sometimes even getting scrappy with the other street cats.

"No, nothing like that." You say quickly, the grip on your school bag's strap tightening ever so slightly.

"Is this—" James begins, his mind racing as he struggles to get his words out. "Has this got something to do with... the amount of school you've missed?" James asks, slowing his pace as if the speed his brain is going compensates for his slower strides.

"The amount of school I've missed?" You ask, sounding confused, though you know exactly what he's referring to. "Course not... why would you think such a thing?" You ask, scratching at your neck nervously, and slowly tugging your earlobe in an attempt to soothe yourself.

"Just sayin'." James replies, sticking his hands in his pockets and fiddling with the leftover lollipop wrappers stuffed inside, they crinkle with the movement of his slender fingers. "You've missed a lot of school recently. Hell, I've even had to eat twice the food I normally do, since you're not able to smack it out of my hand and claim it for yourself." James laughs, though his unspoken question lingers. Why were you missing school?

"Yeah, yeah. Whateva." You sigh, your polished school shoes scuffing against the hot asphalt as your gaze continues to linger in the distance. "It's just school." You comment, something James can wholeheartedly attest to. "Besides, you're missing more school than me." You suggest, not knowing the true reason was to defend his title as the greatest, most undefeated fighter over all similar aged youth in South Korea, and not just to 'make sure he gets his place in line at the shoe store before it opens to get himself the brand new, limited edition sneakers' like he usually claims his time off school is spent.

James watches your shadow prance along next to you like a cat, the shadow following your every movement as shadows do. How he wishes he could be the shadow itself, that way he could always follow you, until it was physically impossible— like when there was no light. Even though James knew shadows could not be created sans illumination, he thought the laws of physics could be bent and appreciate the fact that you were his light, thus he was your shadow. And he would gladly be your shadow for the rest of eternity.

He scoffs at the poetic thought but takes a mental note to his eidetic memory, opting to write it out in a physical form later.

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This chapter is shorter than most, but I plan on releasing a chapter VERY soon. ❤︎

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