To say the work you created didn't make sense to the naked eye was an understatement. Everyday someone would stop to see you draw, take one look at whatever you were drawing and recoil away in disgust and confusion. You didn't draw anything explicit or controversial. Just art. Well, it was that way until one day.
You were sitting peacefully under a comfortable willow tree, the perfect lighting. It took hours before hand to find the perfect place to set up camp but you finally found it. You began sketching the beautiful day before you but in a way that you could understand. Snooty art critics would think too much of it and average citizens would think it looked like a gorilla drew with their shit. (R.I.P my boi Harambe.)
Your hand cramped as the sun started slowly setting, creating a strange shadow from your resting pencil. You just looked at it, not noticing the shadow forming above you.
"What is that?" A raspy voice said from overhead as you screamed. You whipped around a glanced up to see a clearly half baked smile resting upon a handsome troll's face.
"It's not worth explaining." You stated sadly, knowing that no one could ever see what you saw.
"Aw shit bro! I all up figured it out and shit! You're drawing the motherfuckin nature around us, aren't you?" Finally.
"Uh, yeah! How'd you figure that out." He climbed a little down from the willow tree and rest his chin on the crown of your head. A skinny finger stated prodding at the piece of paper, showing what the both of you saw.
"That's a tree, and a lady walking her dog, and that's the bench that's fuckin right there." He stated simply like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Your smile grew as he saw things like you did.
"People generally think it's just scribbles, but just because I don't shade or outline objects doesn't mean it's not art like the rest." You rambled on, thinking you were saying to much but the troll hanging upside down was listening closer to you than anyone has before.
"I think it's motherfuckin beautiful. Like damn, lil mama. That's some really miraculous art." He said, smiling with...honesty?
"Thank you! That means so much! I'm Y/N by the way."
"Gamzee Makara." He stuck out a hand and shook it. You two talked for quite awhile before a friend messaged him saying they couldn't get the top off of a pickle jar.
"Sorry, mama, I gotta split. But I wanna motherfuckin talk again so here." He stated, shoving a slip of paper into your hands before waving goodbye and walking off with his hands in the pockets of his polka dotted pajama pants. You couldn't help but to let out a dreamy sigh, finally someone understood you. You've never been happier. But happier things were yet to come.
