Artisan's Work

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You know what sucks? HAVING TO RE-READ THE STORY TO EDIT IT.

It's so cringey for me xD

Eh. I hope y'all like it tho.

Ciao~
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I dumped my trash into the bin, and it was back to follow the leader. Really, this time.

"Why are you following me, da?"

"OH, uh-" she jumped again. I gotta work on not scaring her. "B-because I don't know where everything else is..." she took out her schedule.

____________________
ON "A" DAY:

Class 1: Math

Lunch

Class 2: Art

Class 3: History
--
ON "B" DAY:

Class 1: Science

Lunch

Class 2: Physical Education

Class 3: Language Arts
____________________

She almost had the same schedule as me, except for Language Arts. I was moved out of that class so I could be put in a special class of, well, it doesn't have a name.

Its just a few students put into a room, and they study the emotions of humans.

"Art? Follow me."

She smiled, and followed me as commanded.

If I told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?

I decided not to say that.

-TIME SKIP OF (Y/N) LOOKING DEPRESSED-

I opened the door. We were surprisingly early. Maybe because instead of slowly trudging down the hall, we did a thing called... speed walking!

I held the door open, and (Y/N) peeked inside.

The art room was a nice size. Light tan cabinets hung against the walls in the back, with a giant walk in closet for the kiln. (A/N: The thing that dries pottery)

Beautiful paintings lined the walls. Mostly landscapes, some famous artisans work. Repaintings, of course. We aren't rich...

The few students there rambled about. They cleaned up the supplies left by the untidy Class 1, and restocked them.

Breathe in, then out.
I sighed. It always smelled nice in here.

I can't explain it, its just... fresh. Watered down paint, with a hint of a cool, minty smell.

I slid over into my chair.

"Y-you're taking art, too?" (Y/N) looked relieved.

I nodded and smiled.

She slowly made her way to the seat next to me.

She took out a petite sketchbook. It was a dark blue with little, four sided yellow stars scattered about. On the cover, it said "Sketch Your Dreams"

She began drawing some unidentifiable squiggles.

"Alright." The teacher said. He had white hair, and sometimes he would wear a berret. "Todays theme, Draw Something You Love."

"Pasta." I could hear someone intensely whisper behind me.

Sunflowers. Even if I didn't know the theme, it would be sunflowers.

My hand started the drawing on it's own.

I glanced over at (Y/N)'s drawing.
She was drawing some... cats? And a lot of squiggles. And food. Lots, and lots, of food.

I looked back at my drawing.

Huh... This is not a sunflower?

It's a (short/tall) girl in (clothes preference). Her (H/C) (H/L) hair blowing in the wind. She had a sunflower clip in her hair.

I was drawing absent-mindedly.

My hand was a rebel.

I quickly erased the sketch. It was in light pencil lines, so it wasn't hard.

I need to focus.

I still love Sunflowers... right?

Of course.

But what was this burning feeling in my chest?

(A/N: *dying internally* I'm writing... *coughs* a Prince!Canada X Mermaid!Reader... and *cough* I want to die.... why am i wriTInG ThIs AAAAAA *dies externally*)

Broken Sunflower ~ Russia X ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now