The brunette frowned at Sam's words, not quite understanding the artist. With a shake of his head and his eyes focused on the ground, Colby let out a soft sigh. He was late, really late, his beating was bound to be worse than yesterday. The blonde's eyes seemed to pierce into his skull as Colby only whispered a clear statement,
"Go away." That was the first clear thing Colby had said in years. It was loud, harsh, and his throat immediately hurt from its sudden force-filled use. Sam only tilted his head studied the boy like one would do in an art museum when given a conflicting piece. A blush formed lightly on Colby's cheeks, as he started to squirm beneath the unwavering gaze,
"Can I draw you?" Sam asked, the question seeming to slide off of his lips. That was the question the blonde seemed to be dying to ask. His heart pounded as the bruised boy only tilted his head, "D-draw me? Why?" Colby asked he had to get home for his father. The real artist was waiting and he had to be someone else's masterpiece today. Sam only nodded along with unheard thoughts,
"Yes. I did say you were my new inspiration did I not? Your eyes are what did it. And while I draw I can settle my curiosity. You are a legend at out school Brock, I want to learn the real story." Sam drawled as he sat down pulling out his sketchbook from his backpack. No one had taken interest in Colby before, no one except his father.
The black and blue paint coat could wait, the paint on his arms was hardly fading, the bruised boy sighing as he sat across from the blonde artist. His father could wait, besides, maybe if he was beaten hard enough today then his father would finally be happy with what he had created, at least that is what Colby Brock hoped.
YOU ARE READING
Paint *Solby*
FanfictionA broken boy who pictures himself as a canvas A struggling artist who has lost inspiration Trigger Warning, intense scenes with description of abuse and violence. Read at your own risk.
