The Color Yellow ~ Blaise Zabini

seven

Isabelle had always been prone to worrying about things. And now, more than ever before, she was worried to death. Aunt T told her that one of her best friends was up to something bad and that same day Katie Bell was cursed trying to get something to Dumbledore. Aunt T said that it was a Hogwarts student trying to get to Dumbledore. Not just any student either, Draco.

Ever since that day, Katie Bell's being treated at St.Mungo's and Draco has been even more closed off than before. Isabelle wanted to talk to the boy about it all but was afraid. Deep down, she knew that Draco did not want to do this. She knew he had no choice. So until she figured out what to say, she spent her time worrying about other things.

Namely, she worried about Blaise or rather her friendship with him. Isabelle and Blaise have gotten a lot closer since that day Draco punched him and he ended up in the Hospital Wing. And now she was extremely confused.

She found herself sketching Blaise at every opportunity.

Sketching him was her knew favorite thing to do, besides talking to him of course. But art had always been Isabelle's way of expression, her way release all of her emotions. It was almost sacred. And now Blaise had even invaded that part of her and she found she rather enjoyed it.

Sitting under the tree by the lake, she flipped through the pages of her sketch book until she found the page she was looking for. The ink on the page was dark and heavy but so very poetic. It was beautiful, probably the most beautiful of all of Isabelle's work. On the page was a drawing of Blaise.

He was dressed completely in black that both melted into and stood stark against his gorgeous ebony skin. But that wasn't it. He had wings. Stunning, flawless white angel wings that protruded from the skin of Blaise's back. And Blaise's chocolate brown eyes were glowing with a hopeful light. Isabelle wasn't sure how she had managed to draw something so beautiful, but sometimes, when she let her heart take over, she didn't even know what she was drawing until it was done. That's what had happened with this, she just sat down and started drawing and finished to find this masterpiece.

Isabelle sighed and leaned against the tree trunk. She gently traced the outline of her sketch and a tear slipped down her flushed cheek. She was shocked out of it when she heard an all to familiar voice from beside her.

"How are you doing, Izzy?" Blaise asked, throwing an arm around Isabelle's shoulders as she looked up at him.

Isabelle said nothing just smiled weakly at Blaise.

"Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong, princess?" he pulled her closer and she rested her head on his chest and let the tears fall.

They sat there like that for a while and Blaise closed Isabelle's sketchbook, without a peek, to protect her beloved artwork from her tears. He held Isabelle close and let her cry. Blaise had never gotten so close to a girl to let her cry into his chest, this was new territory. He didn't know how to comfort Isabelle, he didn't know how to comfort anyone, but he would try.

He massaged her back softly until her breathing slowed and the tears quit. He looked down at Isabelle to find her fast asleep. Blaise brushed the hair from where it was stuck to her tear stained face and pressed his lips to the top of her head, pulling her even closer. He realized he had no idea why she was crying anyway, but he also realized something much more important. He never wanted to see her cry again and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure of it.

About an hour later Isabelle stirred. At first she was confused as to where she was and why she felt so warm and protected, but then she remembered. She looked up to find Blaise gazing down on her with a slight smile. She loved that smile. His smile always felt so private and intimate like he was letting her in on some secret.

Isabelle reached up to her shoulder and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. It was a comforting gesture. Blaise squeezed her hand and didn't let go.

"You want to tell me why you just cried your pretty self to sleep?"

"It's nothing Blaise," it wasn't nothing, "sometimes I just get emotional when I look at my sketches." Not a complete lie.

"I'm not sure I believe you, but I know you'll talk about it when you're ready," Blaise said, hoping that he was right by saying that.

Isabelle sat up a little bit but didn't let go of Blaise's hand, his arm still around her. She nodded her head and grabbed her sketchbook.
She summoned the courage to show him some of her sketches.

When she opened her book, Blaise stopped her. "Isabelle are you sure?"

She nodded and showed him her art. Showed him her truth.

Isabelle started small, harmless; pictures of flowers and trees. Then she showed him animals and rare magical creatures. Then she showed him drawings of people, people from her imagination. They laughed and talked about some of her funnier sketches and discussed some of her deeper ones. Throughout the whole thing she kept stealing glances at the beautiful boy, trying to gauge how he would react to 'the drawing'. She didn't think he would react badly, but she was still terrified.

The sketch was just so deep, so personal. She was scared that Blaise wouldn't understand its meaning. She was also scared that he would. But she knew she needed to risk it.

"Blaise," he looked at her, smiling so brightly, "I drew you. I want you to see it, but I want you to promise to look past the surface of it and really think about it, okay?"

"Of course." He squeezed her hand and she nodded.

Isabelle flipped quickly to the correct page so that Blaise wouldn't see the other sketches of him. She found the right sketch and let out a shuttering breath and showed Blaise how she saw him.

Blaise wanted to cry.

He couldn't remember ever feeling so overcome with emotion. The sketch was beautiful, more than beautiful really. It was stunning. The attention to detail was incredible and her interpretation of him took his breath away. She captured the slightly crooked turn of his nose and the twitch of his lips.

But he was most enthralled with was the way his eyes were sparkling. It was the sparkle that only appeared when Isabelle made him laugh or smile. She captured that sparkle and made it look like it belonged there all the time. Like she saw him as if the sparkle were a part of him.

But the image as a whole was what made him want to cry. She portrayed him as an angel. And a good one at that. The black clothes clearly represented a mask of darkness he hid behind. It represented the him he shared with the world. But the wings and the sparkle represented the him he showed Isabelle. The real him.

Blaise closed the sketchbook carefully and rested his head on top of Isabelle's. Isabelle melted into Blaise's embrace and knew he saw the picture, truly saw it. He looked beyond the surface like she had told him to. Isabelle stole a glance up at him and was forced to come to terms with why she had been crying.

She had fallen for Blaise Zabini.

A.N.  I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!!!!!! I also hope it made up for the cliff-hanger of chapter six. I know this chapter put a lot of focus on Isabelle's sketching but it lead to lots of fluff soooo🤷🏻‍♀️
Love y'all, thanks for all of the votes, comments, and reads!!!💛

COMMENT your favorite line from any chapter!!? (I wanna know what y'all like)