#SQUEEZES HER SO HARDDDD

[elfdyke]

>_<

[no-nameno-face]

Auburn Thoughts (Pt.1)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary:  You are an art student working on a rather boring assignment. The girl across from you makes it a bit more bearable. 

Warnings: ummm painting and flirting ig? Some sarcasm? Not sure what qualifies as warning material in a chapter like this. lol.

Author's Notes: I'm literally a college drop out so idk if this is even close to a real college experience so bear with me. I'm really excited to be writing a slow burn, I love reading them so I'm having a lot of fun making one of my own. This chapter is mostly fluff, but with that being said I definitely plan on this leading to some heavy smut so fair warning. I’m still new to writing, like I said in my last post that was my first time writing, so be patient with me please. I'm already almost done with part two, the story definitely picks up a bit. trying to contain myself to keep it a nice slow build, but writing Ellie makes that so hardddd. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! <3

Part 2

I balance, perched on my wooden stool. Knee to my chest and a paint brush resting in the corner of my mouth. I squint at the bowl of fruit on the pedestal in the middle of the empty classroom. 

How the fuck am I supposed to feel inspired by a god damn banana? My eyes shift to the canvas in front of me. A base of powder blue covers the surface with a rough outline of my perspective of the assigned model. So boring. My forehead drops onto my knee. “Im fucked.” I breathe. I rest there for a minute, trying to get past the mental block of painting something I have absolutely no interest in. I didn't anticipate this side of art school. I was picturing passion projects and creative people with minds for the picking. Not fucking bananas. 

I look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath. I’m not gonna get anything else done today. I can tell. I’ll work on it tomorrow in class, see if I can figure anything out. I begin gathering my brushes head to the sink on the side of the classroom. Turning on the faucet I begin gently squeezing the paint out of my brushes, and drying them one by one. The colored water coming off of them was more exciting than anything I've created today. 

I hear the classroom door swing open. It startles me and I jump a bit, turning automatically to find the noise. Green eyes meet mine. 

“Shit, sorry.” she says as she looks away and paces to the canvas storage on the other side of the classroom, pulling off her hood as she walks revealing short auburn hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. It’s a nice color, I thought as I turned back to my brushes. I finished washing them as I thought about what colors I would have to mix to match it. My color theory class is getting to me, I shake my head softly. 

As I dry my last brush I realize how quiet it is. Just the sound of my bristles on the cloth, and that girl from my class setting her canvas on her assigned easel across from mine, on the opposite side of the cursed fruit. 

I turn and walk back to my easel and put my brushes in their case, then load it into my bag resting on the floor next to my seat. I stand up and address my canvas hopelessly one more time, letting out a small huff before I pick it up and haul it to the canvas storage. I load it into my assigned slot then head back to grab my bag, glancing first at the fruit, then at the girl. She sat comfortably eyeing her canvas, I wondered if she was having as hard of a time with this assignment or if it was just me. I reach my stuff and lean down to grab it.

“God, this blows,” she sighs. I look up at her. It's like she read my mind.

“What, you're not, like, crazy intrigued by the,” I wave towards the model “fruit.” I give a sarcastic smile. She looks up at me and returns the grin. She's got a pretty smile. 

“Can't say I am,” she says looking back at her canvas. I smile swinging on my bag.

“Well that makes two of us.” I say turning to leave the classroom. Walking back to my dorm my mind drifts back to the colors I would need to make that auburn. 

My following few nights were spent, paint brush in hand, and her across the room. Working hard on our assignments, with the occasional aggrieved comment discussing the problem at hand. I found my gaze lingering a bit longer on her than I would like to admit over these days. Smiling a bit too hard at her jokes. Laughing quietly to myself when I’d hear her drop a brush and curse under her breath.  

I started actually looking forward to painting the stupid bowl of fruit. There was something so nice about being in our own worlds, occasionally colliding, then bouncing back to our own little universes on our canvases. She makes me feel safe. Motivated. It was refreshing. 

I wondered if her mind would drift to me late at night like mine drifted to her. Definitely not. So fucking stupid, I would tell myself holding my pillow over my face.

______________________________________________________________

The next day I sat in class listening to the professor go on about the power of perspective, and how angles can truly change the emotion of a piece. My eyes drift as she's talking and I catch a glimpse of green before it darts away. Wandering eyes. Happens to us all. I think nothing of it. 

I endure the lecture and we enter the freepainting portion of the class. Finally okay with the outline of my painting, I go to the paint station to collect the colors I need to start laying the foundation of the subject. I’m rummaging through the bottom drawer of the color supply when I hear someone approaching.

“So how's the emotion of your piece coming?” came her sarcastic voice. I smile at my scavenging hands.

“Oh, it's life changing.” I say with a small nod, not looking up. She chuckles lightly, then leans against the cabinets next to me, crossing her arms over her chest, looking over the classroom. I stand, feeling satisfied by my color choices and meet her eyes, giving her a small smile, before walking back to my easel. I put my headphones in and shuffle my music. Diving into the project, desperately riding the momentum of the lecture before I lost the little motivation I had. 

The class time ended, but I planned on getting another hour or so of painting in to make up for my lack of progress during open room yesterday. Students were drifting out of the classroom leaving it quieter, which I much preferred. Finally finished with the base colors of the painting I began the shading, shuffling through my brushes in my case finding the one I needed. When I found it I pulled my knee up to my chest and leaned around my canvas to look at the subject.

I noticed she was still here, sitting across from me. Just legs beneath her work. Jeans, well worn converse, one tapping the floor. Then she's leaning around to look at the model, I dart back behind my canvas before she can catch me looking. I think I was fast enough? Why do I care, it's not a big deal? My brows furrow, confused by my own actions. Why am I being so weird?

I shade away at the apple on the left side of the bowl, frustrated with the highlights. I tilt my head up and feel the tension in my neck. I grab at it and roll my head. My eyes absently scan the classroom. Empty. All but that one seat. 

I checked my phone for the time, shit it's been over 2 hours since class got out. I look at my canvas, mentally making a plan for tomorrow's work. Then I gather my brushes and head to the sink. A repeat of the day before, and days before that. Watching the colors strain down the sink, drying my brushes. This time she approaches with her own brushes, turning on the faucet next to me and begins working the paint out of them. 

“I didn't realize what time it was, I'm glad you got up when you did. I would have been here for hours” she says looking at the brush in her hands. 

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” I respond, looking over at her then back to my brushes. I see her smile in my peripheral. That pretty smile. We wash in silence for a bit before,

“My name’s Ellie. I just realized I never introduced myself” she says, glimpsing at you.

“How rude of you, Ellie.” I say smirking at her. She squints her eyes at me with a crooked smile. “I’m _____.” I say picking up my drying rag. 

“Hey, for the record you never introduced yourself either.”

“Didn't know you wanted me to.”

“Touche.” 

I turn and walk back to my bag, following my daily routine. Putting my brushes in their case, loading it in my bag. Hauling my canvas to the storage then heading to the door. 

“Hey,” Ellie calls to me. I turn and see her putting her canvas away. “You seemed like you really knew what you were doing, picking your colors out earlier.” I grab at the straps of my backpack as she walks up to me “I was just wondering, could you give me some tips? I'm more of a graphite, charcoal girl myself. Color is not really my thing.” she said looking down at her shoes then back to me. 

“I guess,” I say with a smile heading out the door. She follows me, catching up to walk by my side.

“Now?” She looks at me while we walk.

“I'm a bit painted out at the moment,” 

“Oh, yeah. No for sure,” she responds, directing her attention to the floor. She almost sounds flustered? No, I'm definitely reading into it. A small smile paints my lips at the possibility.

“How about we meet up during open room tomorrow? I'll give you some pointers.” She  looks up to me with a bit of surprise in her eyes, I look ahead of myself. “I mean I'm no Warhol, but I'm happy to help.”

“Fuck yeah, that sounds perfect! What time do you wanna meet?” she asks eagerly. A light in her eyes. 

“4:00?”

“My last class gets out at 4:30, can you do 5:00?” 

“Oh you're making demands now?” I say with a sarcastic grimace at her, brows furrowed. She bites at her smile. It's an image I'd like to immortalize in my sketchbook. What? I look at the ground, thrown off by my own thoughts. “Yeah, let's meet at 5:00.” I say just looking up enough to catch her eyes already peering at me, she glances away from me quickly. Pushing through the doors of the building we are hit with the cold air. She pulls her hood up over her ponytail. 

“See you then.” she nods at me and heads down the stairs and to the left towards her dorm I presume. I grin at myself, my cheeks feeling a bit warmer than they should in the breeze.

Back at my dorm I find myself doodling the image of her bitten lips. Auburn thoughts.

[elfdyke]

baby reached a milestone on toyhouse today 😍 i cant stand her.