Story Dump

Short Story

Here's a short story that I did as a warm-up one day. I never intended for it to form into a full story, but I ended up really enjoying these two characters. Maybe I'll make a mini series for them one day? Anyways, enjoy.

The cool night breeze slowly sets in on the fading landscape, the gentle wind softly whispering in my ear. The stars are barely visible, their light outshone by the lingering sun. I touch the bristles of my paintbrush gingerly, trying to soak in as much of the view as I can before it fades to night. I pull my cup of water closer and open up my paints, briskly glancing at the palette before looking at the sunset again.
This is my favorite place in the whole world.
Crisp air, the soft aroma of a freshly opened pack of paints, the gentle swoosh of my brush gliding over a new canvas... I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I pull my headphones up and put on a gentle tune, dipping my brush in water.
"Heya, dork!" A familiar voice scares me out of my peaceful trance. I yelp and fall backwards, dropping my paintbrush. "Leah!" I groan, showing my irritation. Her head hangs over mine, a grin crossing her face. "How's it going?" I cross my arms and shoot an aggravated look. "Good, until you showed up!" I let out a huff. Leah likes to pop in my house whenever she feels lonely, so I eventually just gave her a house key so she can come and go as she pleases. She slides the glass door closed and sits next to me. "Can I see?" I sit up. "I haven't even started." I sigh, dipping my brush in the water again. Leah pulls her knees up to her chest, looking down at the remaining sliver of the Sun's light. She twirls her hair on the end of her finger, resting her head on her knees. Her long curly locks are dark brown, and her skin is a soft chestnut. She looks so beautiful in the golden light.
I turn my attention back to my paints, and begin to brush.