Readers pov
I sat on my bed with my sketch book in my lap and a pen in my hand. I never draw with pencils for when you use a pencil you are allowed to make mistakes and erase them but when you draw with a pen you've got to be careful because every mark is set in stone. As I carefully moved the pen, letting the ball point gently kiss the paper, I sighed. A line. A line was what I could come up with. "Why the hell cant I draw today?!" I quietly yelled to myself. I threw down my pen and rubbed my eyes. I searched my mind desperately for some inspiration, something to spark a blaze of creativity. As I laid on my bed, mindlessly staring at the ceiling, I zoned out, but was quickly snapped back into reality when I heard a small knock on my bedroom door. "Come in." The door creaked open and in waltzed Emerson. "Hey." "Hey." I blandly responded. I felt my bed dip slightly. I sat up and looked at him with frustrated eyes. "You okay?" I groaned. "Not really, em. I can't fucking draw for the life of me!" He picked up my open sketch book and looked through it. "Well, my sweetness, you've drawn amazing things before. What's the issue?" "I can't find something to draw. I have no inspiration!" He continued to look upon the page that held a single line then smirked. He looked up at me, handing me my book and pen. "Draw me." I pondered the idea and agreed.
As I looked from him to the paper, making precise and delicate lines, my mind was consumed in him. "He's so gorgeous." I thought. "I'm so in love with him." I smiled softly at the words in which I thought.
"One last linneeee.." I mumbled. I finished and let my pen fall. I smiled in pride of my creation and handed it to him. I watched his face light up as he studied the ink marks on the page. He looked up at me, our faces close. "I love it, doll." He whispered. I watched as his eyes fell from my eyes to my lips then back again. He moved his head in and touched my lips. Before it could set in that I was kissing the man I've been in love with since childhood, I was kissing back. His soft, warm lips moved with mine to a perfect rhythm. I felt our lips connect like two puzzle pieces. He pulled away only far enough to disconnect our lips. My faced burned as I averted his gaze. I felt his finger gently lift my head until our eyes met. "Eight goddamn years I've been waiting to do that." He spoke. "Since we were fourteen?" I questioned. "I've been waiting longer." I pressed our lips together again. He kissed back with a smile to his face and passion in his touch. "I love you, y/n." I smiled. "I love you too, Emerson."
-xoxo golden_trash_can
