Day Eighteen: Doing Something Together

Day Eighteen: Friday

Eighteenth Challenge: Doing Something Together

“I’m not that good at drawing.”

“Exactly.” A grin flashed on his face. “I want to have a good laugh, and you know you want to, too. So…” he patted the couch. “Just lie down here and look at me. And then when I’m done, you can draw me and we’ll show each other what we did.” She shook her head but a smile slowly made its way onto her face, and then walked to the couch with a snort.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me for it.”

“I can’t deny that.” she lay down and shifted a little, pushing her hair back and merely looking at him with a lifted brow. “What should I do?”

“Just talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Just anything.” He picked up a sketchbook and a pen, sitting down on a chair and starting to sketch out the outline of how she looked. He gazed at her and smiled, and looked back at the paper, brows arching as he quickly erased a small error in the picture. “Talk to me, love. It’ll seem more natural.”

“Well, work was alright. Same old, same old.” She frowned a little.

“At least smile for me, beautiful.”

She blushed – he chuckled internally at the sight – and slowly, her face broke out into a smile. “I will. Alright. So anyway, we had sort of a meeting…” she ran a hand through her hair, momentarily forgetting that he was getting a conversation out of her just to sketch a simple picture. “And as usual, it went nowhere. I’m actually thinking of skipping work for tomorrow.”

“I think you have to.”

She chuckled.

“You’re a bad influence on me, Matt.”

“I know I am. I don’t hear you complaining.” He grinned, and she laughed once more, shifting a little on the couch. “Face me, will you? I’d like to capture you in all your beauty.” She rolled her eyes yet complied, relaxing and twisting a lock of her hair in thought.

“What made you do this?”

“Hmm?” he looked up from his sketchbook. “Oh, nothing. I just wanted us to do something together, you know?” he looked back down and rounded her face slightly. “Something we haven’t quite done…I mean, when we watched Titanic you were clinging to me like a child. While sobbing.” She blushed, and he gave her cheeks color, focusing on her eyes next.

“It’s the Titanic. I have a soft heart.”

“I know, lovely – and that’s adorable…” he sketched her eyes slowly, hand twitching to grab the green-colored pen to fill in the color of her eyes. He squinted and colored in, the paper showing a pair of vivid green eyes looking back at him, a smile etched on her face. Her hair was in a bun, a few locks framing her oval-shaped face.

“Are you finished?”

“Jesus, lovely. Hold on for a bit more.” He did a rough sketch of her body and hesitated. He wasn’t quite good at anatomy.

“Is there a problem?”

She must have caught the nervous look on his face.

“No, no. I just regret not taking the advanced drawing classes back in the Orphanage.” He pursed his lips as he sketched, slowly relaxing as he easily did a rough sketch of her body and clothes, a loose shirt and shorts that showed off her slim legs. He did the couch last – just doing a rectangle, some pillows here and here, and her arms leaning against the arm rest lazily.

Exquisite.

They had talked and he had sketched for thirty minutes or so, and finally, he grinned lopsidedly, asking her to sit up and relax. She did so, letting off a small groan and stretching her arms. Matt rose from the chair and walked to her, chuckling and showing the work he had done.

She couldn’t speak.

It was an amazing sketch of her lying on the couch, her eyes seemingly twinkling at him in a teasing manner. Her hair was up yet her arms were draped around the arm rest, her legs at ease on the couch. She was smiling at him, her cheeks slightly colored in to represent the blush on her face.

She actually looked beautiful.

Her finger traced the sketch, and she smiled, just a bit.

“You like it?”

“I love it…” she tore her eyes away from the drawing to look at him. “…is this how you see me?”

“Of course.” He leaned in and kissed her lips lightly. “But I see you much more beautiful than what I just did in half an hour. No drawing can express how striking you are to me, love.” He smiled again, that half-smirk appearing on his youthful face. “And now, it’s time for you to draw me.”

She took the pad from him and got up, soon sitting on the chair. Matt simply sat on the sofa.

“Sit up, but look away.”

He blinked at her request, but complied nonetheless.

“Want me to talk?”

“Of course…I need some expression in here, you know.”

“Alright, so I recall taking a class back in Wammy’s…we were made to draw a bowl of fruit.” He grinned at the memory. “I recall Linda, though. Asked for a sketch and did a watercolor. She was a nice girl, though – but a real gossip. Spread rumors about me having the hots for Mello, remember?” she snickered, and he smiled fondly.

“Even I believed it for a moment.”

“Babe.” His face took on a serious expression. “If you were a guy, I’d go gay for you.”

She paused, working on his hair at the moment.

“Gay?”

“Flamingly gay.”

“That’s a relief to hear.” She worked on his eyes, emphasizing the blueness upon coloring them in. They appeared to be slightly crinkled as she focused on bringing his laughing face to life, frowning a bit at the uneven proportions she did. Frustrated, she decided to work on that later and worked down to his body.

He smirked a little, observing as her face changed from one emotion to another. Matt ran a hand through his hair, letting it fall back into his face and sitting up so she could have a much better reference. He watched as her left hand quickly sketched, she sometimes erasing an error he couldn’t see, or adding a little bit more into the picture.

“You’re taking this quite seriously.”

“It’s hard putting perfection on paper.” Her green eyes met his. “More especially if that kind of perfection is hard to complete and even comprehend.”

He smiled faintly.

She sketched his shirt, his jeans, his bare feet and went back to his face, slowly fixing the proportions and grinning to herself as she finished.

“Finished.”

He stood and walked to her, and she showed it to him albeit shyly.

There he was, sitting on the couch and laughing. His eyes were slightly open yet the blueness in them was raw and alive, the grin on his lips never leaving the paper. He was at ease, a leg crossed over the other and one of his hands going through his hair.

He was stunned.

“I took the Advanced classes.” She smirked.

“…did you take the last spot?”

“Possibly. I’m sorry if I stole it from you.”

“No matter. It doesn’t matter.” He cupped her face. “If this is how you see me, then those lessons were worth missing out on.”

“Silly…” she let the sketchbook fall on the coffee table. “You know I love you and all of you. Your looks are just an added bonus. You can see you in the picture, right? Because I do. I see a calm, carefree man who knows how to laugh. And he’s everything I want and need.”

He flipped to the previous page, with the drawing of her.

“And here, I see a pure, yet devious little woman who knows her limits. You’re serious when you have to be, but you can loosen up as well. You have a beauty that you yourself needs to see.”

The sketchbook was left on the table, a blank page facing up.

It watched as she threw her arms around him, locking their lips together.