𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞.
outer banks universe.
BROOKLYN ROUTLEDGE, twin sister
to John B Routledge, is thrusted into a
whirlwind of an adventure when her father goes missing at sea. Brooklyn and John B rope
their closest friends into their adventure,
...
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𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
here comes the sun ──── the beatles
☀︎ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯
𝖨 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖣𝖱𝖠𝖶． 𝖨 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖭𝖳．
It was a skill I picked up when I was a kid when I found that watercolours were ridiculously fun── especially when you know how to use them. Painting and drawing is my escape. I use it as a way to relax, to focus solely on myself and my art. My fingers numb, ink coats my knuckles, and my eyes start to dry as I stare down at the sketchbook in front of me.
The sketchbook I use for my art was gifted to me for my sixteenth birthday by Kiara. I couldn't afford fancy art supplies or a real book to draw in── only having drawn in my school books and on tables growing up. I've nearly filled every page in this book, and I've nearly used up all my art supplies, but I don't stop drawing.
I keep moving my pencil across the page, moving my thumb across the line to smudge it. I bring my bottom lip in between my teeth── something I do when I'm trying to focus── and I move my pencil in a circular motion, moving my fingers across the page once again.
When I draw or paint, I feel like I'm being transformed into the artwork. Right now, I'm attempting to draw the sun during a storm── something I saw a couple hours ago when the storm started to settle, and the sun started to shine. I instantly felt creative, and after I skulked back into my bedroom── intent on sleeping── I pulled out my sketchbook and began to draw.
It's now the early hours of the morning, and there's a knock on my door. I lift my head, finding that John B is leaning against the doorframe. "Morning, B. You're..." He hums. "...awake."
B is a nickname that only my brother gets to use on me. Like Sunshine is JJ's, B is John B's name for me. Everyone else in my life calls me Brooke which I find to be far better than Brooklyn.
"I haven't slept," I reply, dragging my thumb across my page, smudging the line I just scribbled down. "Where were you last night?"
When I walked back into the Chateau after watching the storm, I realised that John B wasn't inside. JJ passed out on the sofa, and I moved back to my bedroom, waiting for him to arrive, but I guess I didn't hear him come in. I was distracted, obviously in a world of my own art.
