I called your name at least 10 times, poking your arm with each annoying nickname I could think of–but you simply brushed me off and continued to read. The sound of rustling papers mixed with the sour smell of dusty shelves that engulfed the library; you were my only source of entertainment it seemed.
I wanted to go, I tried to give you some lame excuse but my words trailed off as your eyes reluctantly left the page to meet my own. I winced slightly at the tone of your voice when you said my name, it sounded far away–pleading almost. My gaze softened slightly and I let out a deep breath, I would stay. Immediately your expression brightened–my personal sunshine. I reached for my sketchbook, a sigh of relief leaving my lips the minute my fingertips traced the worn leather; I had nothing better to do, so why not draw my muse–you?
I moved with caution, careful not to draw your attention to me–you hated when i drew you; but how could I not? Your entire being seemed to have been hand-crafted from the purest things on earth. I glanced from you to my paper, my pencil moving lightly to capture your image on the canvas; I became so heavily engrossed in my little project that I didn’t even notice you staring at me. When I looked up momentarily I jumped at the sight, you frowned and shook your head with amusement dancing in your eyes.
You laughed and asked if I had been drawing you, I felt my face heat up and I scrambled to close the book. Explanations and protests began to spew out of me like word vomit, the upheaval stopped when you gently tugged the book from my grasp; I tried to stop you from looking but you simply ignored me. I watched as you lazily flipped through the pages, smiling slightly at my doodles; you paused momentarily on one page–I cringed. You had found my sketches of you, all the charcoal outlines messily displayed before your eyes. I wanted to say something but coherent sentences weren’t coming out, you handed the book back to me without a word.
I waited for a response–maybe even feedback–but you said nothing. You went back to your reading, the silence radiating around us. The bell rang, ending our free period. I hastily grabbed my bag and stood, wanting to escape confrontation. You stepped into my path and I looked up at you, waiting. You leaned in and lightly kissed my forehead, lingering there for a moment. As you pulled away you mumbled “Those drawings were beautiful”. You left before I could even comprehend the words.
And every time I look at you my hands become restless
Searching for something to grasp on
I put you on paper so that I can keep you
So that I can finally touch you
The same way you touched me
Hello my babes another EXODUS post!! I haven’t posted because honestly I didn’t know what to type, writer’s block ya feel? Anyway I’ll try to update the story more later–I’m thinking that I’ll just continue it here and do a few normal posts for every two chapters I post. Sound good? I hope that you’re doing OK, remember to stay hydrated and tell yourself that you love you. (I’m serious). Bye Bye for now!!
p.s What do you call a pig that does karate? A PORKCHOP (: