Over The Years

Pencil Marks

| Yifan/Yixing | NC17 | 1.8k 

Summary:  

There's something odd about the dude who won't stop staring at Yixing in the library. Is he... is he drawing?

Written for Oh Boy! Fanxing Fest

Scritch scratch. Scritch scratch. The sound of a pencil scratching on paper could be heard from all the way across the library. Yixing pressed the tip of his pen into the writing pad, tonguing his cheek. He was at the climax of his story, the protagonist standing at a crossroads, a choice between killing or capturing his arch enemy, who happened to be a beloved childhood friend. It should have been an easy scene to write but Yixing just could not find the right words to describe the emotional and mental torture the protagonist was going through.

Absorbed with his writing, Yixing failed to realize just how hard he was pressing his pen onto the paper. Snap. "Fuck!" He swore when the tip of his pen snapped, sending ink splattering everywhere. The librarian gave him a dirty look and he flushed. That's probably a sign. He thought to himself bitterly as he pulled tissues from his bag to wipe the ink off his precious manuscript. Scratch scratch. The sound of the pencil caught his ear and he dropped his useless pen onto the table, leaning back in his seat.

The tall silhouette of a man caught his eye. It was where the scratching sound was coming from. He had noticed the man for a couple of days now. Often, he caught the man staring. He frowned when he found the man staring intently at him again before dropping his eyes back to the pad of paper in front of him. Yixing closed his eyes and massaged his temples with ink stained hands before looking at the man again. The man was staring again, hand moving across his paper without looking. Yixing blinked. Is he drawing me? He wondered, rubbing at his temple with one hand.

When the man dropped his eyes back to his paper, Yixing took the opportunity to grab another pen to jot down the man's physical attributes just in case he could use it in another one of his stories. The man was tall with blonde hair and from what Yixing could see, thick bushy eyebrows and a strong jaw. Looks like a character from some anime, Went Yixing's pencil. The man lifted his head and his hand froze when he saw Yixing staring in his direction.

Shit. He saw me. Yifan thought to himself as the staring contest began. Yifan had gone into the library every day for two weeks ever since he discovered the handsome young writer with a dimple in his cheek whenever he smiled. His sketchbook was full of drawings of the young man in various poses. He especially liked the one where the man was staring at his writing pad and smiling so sweetly that he made Yifan's heart clench. Yifan ducked his head down and focused on his drawing. He had almost gotten the man's brows that were furrowed from frustration down already and all he had left were the ink stains on his hands.

Yifan reached for a softer pencil to finish up the brows and completely immersed himself in his drawing. He was so absorbed in his drawing that he did not hear the soft shuffling sound sneakers make as the man walked over to his table.

Yixing stood over the man's shoulder, the man completely oblivious to his presence. He frowned at the sight of his frustrated expression captured with incredible likeness on the man's sketch book and waited till the man had set down his pencil before remarking. "That actually looks like me." The man yelped and hugged the book close to his chest, turning around to stare at him in shock.

"Lemme see it." Yixing made grabby hands towards the man's sketchbook and he flushed. "It's not... Not very good." He stuttered. Yixing found him endearing when he stuttered like that. "Oh don't give me that crap, I saw it." He leaned over and snatched the book, flipping through the pages more carefully, aware of how much time an artist puts into his work. The blonde man worried his lip as he watched Yixing flip through the sketchbook full of his portraits.