Scintillas ; phan au

To Me & You, 500 Years Ago

One day, I asked a young male what he was doing. He was sat on a bench, the wood rotting from the inside out, in front of a large green. The male looked at me, his hands covered in graphite and pointed to a cat sat on a stone fence.

"You see that cat?" He said to me. "I'm drawing it."

As I looked down on his pad about half the cat was drawn, various shades of pencil artistically covered the page. I asked if I could sit down next to him in which he obliged, shuffling up the bench to make room for me. I scanned his art supplies along his feet, it was filled with water colours, other pencils and different sized rubbers.

It was weird though, between the both of us a weird aura seemed to linger and it wasn't till the male looked up at me that I realised it was you. It seemed like the fates had tied us together after all. I had to cough back my tears as you smiled at me, like you always did. You'd carefully set your art supplies aside and launched your arms around my shoulders. I gripped at your body tightly. Your scent, your soft hair, everything, was here and as we did let go, you chuckled as the cat had ran off in surprise of our sudden embrace.

I apologised as you looked down at your half drawn cat but you said it was fine because in return you had me. That night, you took me to your apartment. Your living room was filled with canvases and large sheets with paint splattered on.

"Is this your job?" I asked you.

You nodded in reply and explained that you painted whatever people requested. I asked you if you'd ever considered photography as cameras had not long been invented however you laughed and shook your head.

"I could never put up with those bulky things."

That night, you cooked us both dinner. It was only carrot and coriander soup as earlier you'd found out you barely had anything to eat in your house. Despite that, I loved it. Your apartment was small as you couldn't afford much, neither could I. Working in production didn't pay much due to the economic depression. There had been hunger marches left and right but the government just didn't listen. After dinner we sat in your bedroom, lying on the bed together talking about what had happened in our lives up until this point. Then afterwards we had sex. It was the first time we had ever touched each other like that, it was purely blissful. When we laid in bed together later that night you curled up into my chest and started to cry. You didn't have to explain your tears because I understood why you wept all too well.

•

Unfortunately, I couldn't see you as often as I had wanted to. We both had jobs which we depended on and couldn't afford to lose, even if they paid so little. However sometime later I saw you sat out in the middle of the green, the sun beating down on your back. I sat down next to you and crossed my legs watching as you were studying a tree carefully. The tree looked old and in the autumn weather, its leaves were surrounding it like a blanket of orange, yellow and red. I watched you draw, your fingers moving with precision as your eyes flickered from paper to tree and back. You rocked your body backwards, pressing your fingers against your forehead and I laughed as graphite fingers tips were left. I licked my thumb and rubbed them off carefully which caused you to giggle underneath me.

"Dan," I whispered to you. "I'm unemployed."

Your eyes removed themselves from your sketchbook to meet my eyes. You shook your head as if you couldn't believe what I just said before you apologised and asked me if I was getting on okay. I shrugged in reply, being unemployed was normal nowadays however it meant that I wouldn't last long in my current home. That was until you proposed that I come and live with you. Some people may find it odd that we were just two men together but families had to share houses sometimes because of their poverty, so I doubted much of it. I accepted your offer with so many thanks and took you into my arms. We laughed together and you fell onto your back, my hand in yours. We were both looking up at the sky together, clouds were wandering past us as we laid there, the warmth of your hand causing my heart to flutter.

Later that day you helped me bring my small amount of belongings to yours and we made out on your bed as the sun set. I prepared us bread and vegetables for dinner, that was as good as it was getting at this point with what we could afford. You had gone out to give the drawing to a client of yours before you returned to the dinner I had prepared.

The next morning I woke up to you studying my face, pencil in hand and I almost fell off the bed in shock. Your laugh rang throughout the room and you asked if I was okay. I sat up and nodded sheepishly.

"You're beautiful Phil," you said to me. "I wanted to draw you."

I blushed in reply to your words and you showed me what you had drawn. It was me, lying under the sheets with the bedroom window open, torn sheets which we used as our curtains blowing slightly in a breeze whilst the sun broke into the room.

"Next time I want to draw your face." you beamed.

I went looking for jobs that day but no one would take me, so I came back to you in tears. You held me in front of our small fireplace in the living room, your abandoned canvas staring at us blankly. You lifted my chin up and told me that everything would clear up soon. In the blazing heat of the fire then you kissed me softly, my heart thumping as if it were galloping. I slid down so I was resting on your lap. You played with my hair as I slowly fell asleep on you.

We lived like that for months, sitting in front of the fire, your career still remained as an artist whilst I went looking for employment where ever I could. We were scraping by together but it was working out, we were happy. On a bright Monday afternoon I decided to take you out to the green to see the flowers bloom. You smiled, dimples in full bloom too as you saw the cat you had half-drawn when I'd met you again. Daisies were facing the sun and buttercups smiling in its wake. I picked up a buttercup and told you that if you lifted the flower under your chin and it glowed yellow, you liked butter. Of course this was a stupid childhood game I used to play, nevertheless you held the buttercup under your chin and asked me if it was glowing. I chuckled and told you it was. You then held buttercup under my chin.

"It's glowing, just like you are Phil."

I laughed and squeezed your hand. As we walked home we were practically skipping, your hand in my right and the buttercup in my left. You took a step out in the road in order to get us back home before my smile turned into a quivering mess of fear. I removed my hand from yours and pushed you out so you fell on the floor in shock. I last saw your glassy eyes as I felt something impact with my body and I was also on the floor, the buttercup now glowing red.

•

lollll who likes happy endings.
I'm jk my heart hurt writing that.
Anyhow there are only a few chapters left of this fic and I'm so glad all of you have enjoyed it so far! I love writing this fic so much, this style is my favourite way to write!
Thank you for all the support (and 800+ reads wow wow)
Ellie