"Ive been trying for so long to sing you the right song to show you something different every day," nostalgic music blasted from your Bluetooth radio that was hooked to your phone's Pandora.
"So you hear what I have to say like puzzle pieces." Setting up your easel and a stool next to the large window that viewed the rest of the area you lived in. Houses looked small frome where your home sat, it was your parents home but they were long gone after their untimely death, and beings you were their only child you got everything.
Today you were painting a man you saw in your dream, well actually lets make dream plural, he appeared in all your dreams weather at him being a bystander or you interacting with him.
You mixed your paints, not many colors mostly a variety of reds, browns, blacks, and a small bit of yellow. The man was dressed in mostly in reds and blacks from what you could recall in your dreams. He was quite handsome, but you didn't understand why he was always appears in your dreams and he radiated power when he interacting with you.
You were so lost in thought, you hadn't realized the song had almost ended, it was at your favorite part so you decided to sing along,
"This is what happens when you leave it to somebody else, if you want it done right you should just do it yourself. You over saturate you world with nothing but machines, you might make everyone happy but you're dead inside just like me."
You smiled, it had been a while since you've played fnaf (insert game #or sl) you decided while waiting for your paint to dry you would play it. You started sketching out the man and decided to put an elk in the picture with him, they were powerful and you needed something for background.
You covered the canvas in a thin sheet of red paint, and as the sheets got thicker the paint started to drip down the canvas as if blood was trickling down a freshly opened wound.
You laughed at the morbid thought and continued painting.
YOU ARE READING
°~Red Paint~° Alastor X Reader {🍋Lemon Maybe..🍋}
Fanfiction"Red paint dripped from the canvas almost as if blood was falling from a freshly cut wound..~" - Fresh out of art school, young aspiring painter, (Y/n) (Y/L/n), had inherited a studio from her late patents. Things go south when her bank gives her th...
