p a i n t m e ⥱ kjm

💌paint me💌

an exasperated sigh left your lips as your hands massaged your temples. The canvas in front of you was blank and the different colors on the palette were starting to dry up, you had been sitting there; in the empty art classroom for a couple of consecutive hours by now. An artists block was one of the most troublesome things to go through as an art student. But there was no way to overcome it, you had just to wait for it to go. Until then you'd have to keep staring at the blank sheet in front of you. Because if there was something that you weren't supposed to do, that was forcing yourself to do something great when it wasn't possible.

On the desk next to you laid white papers and charcoal sticks together with pencils of different thicknesses. The very first step had always been to get the ideas down onto the paper so that you would have a reference when you were going to do it on the canvas. But being the straightforward person that you were, you many times skipped that step and went directly with the charcoal onto the sheet. You would always say that you were too impatient to sketch, but in reality, you were just afraid that you wouldn't be able to recreate the image from the sketch.

You had to hurry, the time was running out. If you wouldn't present yourself with a wonderful painting by the end of next week, you could consider it pretty much over for you. The creativity and the fantasy that you would normally have was nowhere to be seen, your brain was void of any ideas and the only thought that lingered in your head was the date of the deadline. The heart in your chest felt suffocated while the anxious feeling grew stronger day by day. As soon as you would be faced by the easel bearing your canvas it would be like everything around you disappeared, any sound, any furniture. Just you and the blankness, with your view unfocused and your ears ringing by the quick ticking of the clock.

You were running out of time. 

Slowly, your vision had become blurry, but you hadn't noticed the welling tears in your eyes until you felt the warm liquid slid down your cheek. And you let them fall, this time you didn't have the strength to dry them. Your head fell, the shoulders shook with the silent sobs as the tears landed directly on your lap, dark spots appearing on the fabric of your skirt. Crying was supposed to make you feel relieved but now you felt the exact opposite when the tears never stopped coming while your breathing became heavier. You felt like you couldn't even breathe, hence, the past few weeks had consisted in you holding your breath and staying at the start point while everyone else around you seemed to only come further done with their paintings.

This was supposed to be your passion, your strongest point, how come it was giving you the hardest time in your life now? 

Your breath hitched inside of your throat when you heard the door open, it was so sudden that you had jumped ever so slightly in your seat, your widening eyes met with a pair of dark ones. Immediately you felt the blood run to your cheeks, your whole face rising in temperature while you rubbed your fists against your eyes to dry the salty tears. But before you could continue, a warm hand had already elapsed around your wrist, gently prying your hands from your face.

"You shouldn't do that, your eyes will hurt," His voice was one of the softest things you had ever heard, his tone quite but still comparable to silk, not to mention the warmness of his skin against yours. 

It wasn't like you didn't know this person. In fact, you were in the same class, he wasn't one to take a lot of space. Although he had his group of friends he tended to be the silent one. You hadn't had the chance to be around him enough to know him well, nonetheless, you had cherished every moment you had gotten because for some reason; his presence always brought a calming wave upon you. You liked him. You liked the way his smile was something rare and beautiful that only a few persons could ever see. You liked how you never could get used to his voice, everytime you'd hear it, it'd sound more magical. You loved the way he made eye contact with you everytime he entered the classroom in the morning.