Drawing the Line // louis tomlinson [hold]

Three- shallow

Okay, so I have decided that the chapters will remain short, so that the fanfiction itself will be longer in the end (:

Three- shallow

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"Okay, Louis," I sigh, holding up another painting. "What do you see in this one?"

He puffs out his cheeks and pulls a fake thinking face before answering sarcastically, like he did with the rest of the abstract paintings I showed him. "I see more colors."

I roll my eyes, groaning as I throw my head back and drop my hands back to my sides. "Louis, your hopeless."

"What do you want from me?" He said, sounding annoyed, just as annoyed as I felt. I was getting no where, and I been at this same tactic for twenty minuets. It's like trying to teach a hyper active Labrador to sit, and stay. It takes time, but Louis is nearly impossible. "What am I supposed to see? There's just a bunch of colors and squiggles."

"Your supposed to go deeper than that, Louis!" I exclaim, shocked by how narrow and uncreative his mind actually was. "Make something out of the colors, see something more than just lines!"

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll try." He takes a deep breath and I hold up another painting, just holding on to that little string of hope that Louis may come through. "Jesus Christ, Macy, all I see is colors!"

Instead of groaning, since that proved no help, I kept my composure, knowing it's what we both needed to get through this period of time my project consumed. "Okay," I breath, trying to come up with better words since my previous ones didn't work either. "Then, turn those colors into something. I know you can, if you just look, really, really, closely. It's all about perspective." I hand him the painting and he looks at me like I'm insane, like something as much as splattered paint couldn't mean anything.

"Well I guess I see," he takes the paper in his hands, cocking his head as he searches the squiggles for something more. "A flower." He says, then hands me back my painting.

"Okay, good. A flower," I look at the painting myself and I see too many things to list, a flower being one of them. "That's a good start." I smile and set the painting tucked under my arm down.

"Now what?" He asks me.

"Now is the fun part." I smile giddily as I make my way over to a small table I had set up. There were paintbrushes, pens, pencils, markers, pastels. No doubt my favorite part of step one.

"Okay, over here," I say, waving my hand to signal him to make his way over. He does and sits down in yet another chair.

"What's all this?" He asks, his eyes scanning over everything I had laid out.

"Phase two of step one,"

"Wait, what's step one?"

"Not important, now close your eyes,"

"Why-"

"Just do it?"

"But-"

"Please?"

"Fine." He grumbles but obliges to my request.

"Okay, I'm going to give you a pencil, then just scribble wildly all over that piece of paper, okay?"

"Okay," he says as I pick up the black colored pencil and place it in his grasp. Just as I instructed him too, he jerks the pencil back and forth, gently over the surface of the now colored paper. I keep this going for a little while until the paper is covered in black ink, lead, paint, crayon, and any other substance I had laid out.

"Alright, now open your eyes and tell me what you see." I say, waiting for him to look down at the paper, but instead, when his eyes open he looks at me and I brace myself for another one of his off-topic comments.

"I see a really, really, hot girl named Macy." He flashes me a cheeky grin. I roll my eyes and give his shoulder a little nudge.

"How flattering," I say sarcastically. "But I meant on the paper."

"You're absolutely no fun." He pouts and reluctantly looks down at the paper where he's mercilessly scribbled over the surface, just a bit of white speckles peeking out from under the mess of black. "I see a blob." He tells me. And we are back to square one.

"Louis Tomlinson, your mind is about as shallow as a kiddie pool." I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose and lightly shaking my head.

"Fine, I see a cat." He says half-heartedly.

"A cat?" I raise a suspicious eyebrow, already knowing Louis didn't think twice about what he may see in the blob of black scribbles and swirls.

"Yes, Macy, a cat." His jaw tenses.

"Oh come on, Louis," my words go back to coming out hopeless and exasperated. "You and I both know you didn't even think about it."

"So what?" His voice raises as he shoots up from his chair. "This is stupid anyway. I've got more important places to be right now." He brushes past me, heading for the door again. I stay put, crossing my arms over my chest.

"We didn't even finish step one." I point out as he's half way to the door.

"Screw your steps." He calls out over his shoulder.

I watch him storm to the door, not sure what set him off so badly, but I stop him before he can disappear through the doorway, grabbing the black blob of a masterpiece of the table.

"Wait!" I shout in hopes of grabbing his attention before he leaves, balling up the paper in my hands.

"What?" He shouts, turning on his heel abruptly too look at me.

"Don't forget this," I launch the paper toward him, it landing near his feet. "You'll need it. Have a nice day now, Louis." I wave with a smile.

He gives me a confused look before crouching to get the crumpled piece of paper. He storms out shortly after that, the balled up creation becoming even more crushed in his clenched fist. He slams the door behind him on his way out, and I let out a breath.

It didn't go as bad as I thought the first day would have. I didn't see it ending with Louis storming out, but with art, that's the beauty. You never know what your gonna get. It's true I hadn't finished with the little steps I have pieced together in my mind. But still, it lasted longer than I thought it would.

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It's short, but I double updated. Yay?

Not fond of this chapter, but then again I never am fond of any of my chapters because I'm convinced I suck. Meh.

Next chapter might be up tomorrow and I promise you it'll be better than this.

Just so you know- Barbara Palvin plays Macy.

Xx big love xX