Jacksepticeye Imagines

Stunning

(This will be in first person POV, we'll see how this works out. It is your POV.)

I sat in my art class in high school. I wasn't quite sure why I chose art. I knew I was never going to be talented enough to get a job out of it. I mean, sure, I was decent in drawing and sometimes I could paint, but my skills were limited and my style wasn't consistent. I was very creative on the inside, but I never really knew how to apply it to life. I was making myself anxious just by thinking about how I was completely in the dark when it came to knowing what I wanted to do after high school.

I sighed and looked at the blank canvas. Our assignment had very loose rules: You must sketch on the canvas before painting. The painting has to be monochrome. Try to focus on lighting and shadows.

That was pretty much it. I sucked at shadows. Maybe I could get a good grade if I just worked carefully. After almost a week working on the painting, I was almost done. It was not my best work, especially since I was used to simplicity on paper with pencils. It wasn't horrible though, so that was pleasing. I sat back in my seat, observing the shades of black, grey, and white. I was wondering if I could add something to it without screwing up the while thing. I painted a girl in the middle of a forest, with all the trees that were cut down surrounding her. I painted it in a way that made her the main attraction, and portrayed her as the one beautiful thing in the wreckage. I decided to paint a few flowers in the girl's hair to add the idea of beauty.

The bell rang, so I packed my stuff and signed the canvas. Then I wrote my name normally on the back, as our teacher instructed.

Next week in class, our art teacher stood at the front of the classroom. This either meant he had an announcement, or he was about to chew us out for something. When everyone settled down, he cleared his throat. I glanced at everyone's nervous expressions, eyes glued to the teacher.

"Does everyone remember the monochrome paintings we did last week?" No one said anything, which usually meant yes. "One of your classmates made quite a work of art. Mr. Mcloughlin."

Heads turned to face Sean, the boy sat somewhat close to me. His face turned a bit red. It was kind of cute.

"His painting is going to be on display at the arts center in an exhibit for talented young artist." The teacher smiled proudly, as if he had won an award of some kid. Sean was good art when he walked through the doors. The teacher had almost nothing to do with Sean's talent.

"Can we see it?" A small voice asked. It was a shy girl, Alyssa. She was good at art and loved to boost other people's self esteem, as well as being a big fan of Sean's work. She sat behind him, she basically had a front row seat to his art. The teacher nodded, going behind his desk and leaning down to pick up Sean's canvas. I caught Sean's eye and gave him an encouraging smile.

The teacher went back to the front of the room and held the canvas up to his chest for everyone to admire. My smile dropped slightly. It took me a moment to figure it out, as I was sitting far away and wasn't wearing my glasses.

It was me.

I glanced at Sean, biting his lip and sitting stiffly. The teacher seemed to suddenly realize this as well, his eyes flicking from the painting, to me, then to Sean. He smiled and returned the painting to its spot behind his desk. He pointed to our assignment that he wrote on the board. "Get to work."

I could hardly concentrate on drawing. A few times, I glanced as Sean to find that he was already staring at me. Our faces looked like tomatoes the whole period. The bell finally rang, and I quickly packed my bag and walked quickly out of the room. I hand caught my wrist in the hallway. It was Sean. He pulled me to the side, out of the way from students trying to get to out to go home.

We just stared at each other awkwardly until I pointed to his hand, still firmly around my wrist. He let go, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry." He muttered after a moment. I looked up at him, confused. "For what?" I asked. He rubbed the nape of his neck. "Painting you, I guess. I don't know. Sorry." He apologized again. A small smile formed on my lips.

"It was beautiful. And very flattering." I said softly. He smiled, seeming less stiff than earlier. "Have you painted, or drew, me before?" I asked. His face turned red again and he looked away. "A few times." "Why?" I asked, genuinely curious. He let out a heavy breath. "You're stunning." He stated, seemingly having gained some confidence. I mustered up some courage, shakily inhaling a deep breath. I swiftly kissed his lips for a split second. I stepped back, but Sean took a stride forward and embraced me as our lips connected again. The kiss continued for a few seconds, before Sean back away.

"Maybe not here." He said sheepishly, hating to have to end the kiss. I nodded. "Maybe later, then?" I grinned, giving him a slip on paper with my number on it.

(A/N) I'm truly sorry, I have no idea who the owner of the painting actually is, but there seems to be a white signature on the bottom right?

SERIOUSLY? 2.56k reads? Wow. That's pretty neat.