Blushing Drawing の小説・ストーリー

Half-finished profiles, small studies of my mouth, my knuckles. He didn't just draw my hands. He drew the veins on my forearm. He drew the calluses on my fingers. He drew the scar on my left palm. I feel something in my chest lurch. This isn't a sketch book. It's an obsession, and I’m so here for it. I flip a page and my breath stills in my throat. It’s me, drawn from the side, on my knees. My head is bowed, my hands clasped behind my back. It’s not last night. It’s from a drill. But the focus he’s captured is all sex. The tension in my spine, the line of my ass.

"Look what we made! We were practicing drawing the olive tree like you taught us, but we started drawing each other too!" She held out her sketch—a lively, imperfect drawing of the students sitting in a circle under the ancient tree, their faces filled with the unselfconscious joy of youth. Around them, she'd drawn flowers and birds, sun and stars, all mixed together in a chaotic but beautiful composition that seemed to capture the very essence of their new way of being. Lysander knelt down to look at the drawing properly, his face breaking into a wide smile. "This is wonderful," he said sincerely.

"I'm fine." "Your hands are shaking, Lila." She lightly brushed her fingers against my wrist to stop my movement. Her skin was warm, just as I had imagined it would be. She also smelt like a mixture of vanilla and coconut. "You've been distracted throughout the lesson today, and your painting is a bit off." She gestured to my painting. I was trying to draw the image of a solemn woman but I messed up the colors a bit and her head was slightly bigger than her body. Overall, it was a mess.

he chuckled and quickly glanced down to wipe his eyes with his cheeks reddening slightly. I need someone to pinch me right this instant. Am I dreaming or is the bad boy really blushing right now?

He had been drawn much more realistically, his hair, nose, and eyes, perfectly proportional to his face, along with the bit of stubble that he was now getting from not shaving for so long – the bit of stubble that had scratched perfectly along Emmet’s thighs last night. His hair and face had also been shaded in, as the shirt that Lila had drawn him in remained uncoloured. His curls fell down to frame his face, and his eyes shone in the light shafts that Lila had drawn in, the reflections within them gleaming like soft, golden halos. Emmet ripped out the page that Jasper was drawn on and held it up, noticing only then that Lila’s face could be seen from the other side. He cursed her for a mom

I couldn't finish my sentence because I was awed at how he drew me looking at the sunset. He chuckled and blushed. "I just want to draw your serene moment." He told me. "You look so perfect." I raised my brow at him. "So that's my share in this project? Be your model?" I asked and he chuckled. "You'll always be the only model my eyes will look at, Ashejan." He told me and my heart jumped out of my chest. I swear to all the gods that I am blushing beet red right now. He chuckled and continued drawing. "Don't blush like that." He told me.

Red. Is the idiot....... blushing?

Damn. Another deep breath later I shook my head then moved his sketch aside and started drawing my latest victim instead. Willing my mind to think about my latest kill, I started sketching, fast. The lines, the shape of his slouched body, and the fear show his level of stress without showing off his face. The blood dripping from his stomach made them perfectly in line with the moment his life was slipping away. My wrist moves hurriedly, line after line, shading, shaping Rudy the tattletale. The coloring comes next, then I decided to stop when my back felt too tired to continue.

She blushed, her eyes slightly red. [Will provide additional sound.]

I ask, she brings her eyes back to me, this time she searches my face and I do the same. She has baby blue eyes, thick eyebrows, freckles sprinkled on her little button nose and her pouty lips are red, not lipstick red but natural red. It's like meeting Snow White in the flesh. She hesitates at first but she extends the notebook to me, I notice that her hands are shaking a little but I pretend not to have noticed. I take the notebook, keeping my eyes on her. The drawing is actually a sketch of a tree, birds flying away from it. It looks more like a picture to be honest.