𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓+𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐒 ✭ 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍

₮ℏїԻ†€ℯη

a.n - i just wanted to thank you for the lovely comments—honestly keeps me going💞💞💞

The very moment his crystal white Adidas shoes stopped at the door frame the comforting smell of acrylic paints filled his senses. Dan's memory being shot back to the time he attended kindergarten, the finger paints and learning his abc's sent a warm fuzzy physiological blanket to hug his brain.

Though, this secondary school paint class wasn't as welcoming towards someone of his kind.

Dan tugged at the bottom of his cute mom shorts with tiny threaded daisies sewn into the jean fabric; standing quietly as his eyes swiftly swept over the classroom.

Daring yet sophisticated looks darted over his frame, surveying him up and down begging him to step further into their domain. They were all paint junkies, cavetown wannabes, aesthetic hoes that absolutely despised cheerleaders and every single person in his clique.

Surprisingly, the stares didn't bother him—and that sent the painters wild.

Mister Auburn stood in front of the class by his whiteboard jotting down the three techniques Dan and the rest of his paint class would have to include in their paintings. The professor turned his body around keeping his marker in hand as he tilted his head to look at Dan. "Mister Howell would you like to take your seat at an easel as I would like to begin class," A soft comforting smile lifted Mister Auburn's cheeks like the sun lifted up towards the heavens.

Three girls in the back began to giggle thinking they could earn a little something from Mister Auburn—though all they got was a cold stare and shivers down their spine.

Dan smiled at them gripping onto his backpack's straps. "Sir, the bell hasn't even rung!" Dan exclaims with a snicker making his way towards his easel; right up front in order to get a good view. Yes, he managed to be teacher's pet even when the entire class would rather have him obliterated.

"Uh huh," Auburn says with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. He twists back around to place his red marker down by the board. "What's a few seconds?"

"What's a few seconds before the dismissal bell when we leave, sir?"

The professor chuckled, lifting up both of his free hands to the button of his collared shirt; undoing it. "Touché," A twinkle in his eye gave away his youth. He couldn't be past his twenties as his ripped body and perfect personality said so. But sadly, he was engaged which left Dan to only wonder Call Me By Your Name style.

Dan grinned from ear to ear then snapped away his gaze from Auburn's walking over to the paint rack to retrieve his painting he poured his heart and soul into.

As jealous as everyone was, Dan remained modest—but he came up with the best pieces Mister Auburn's ever seen! How could he not be colt when given such advantage.

Auburn started to talk as Dan strutted back to his seat. "Alright, we have 6 weeks left till homecoming," he addressed holding up six of his fingers. "That being said we only have 18 classes left to finish sketching, find your colour schemes, paint and hang on the walls of the gymnasium—so get to work."

Dan covered his mouth with his hand giggling like Auburn muttered a curse word under his breath. He placed his canvas on his easel then dug through his pen case to find his H2 graphite pencil. He took in a deep breath, a ritual that had to be done before every art piece he made, then he began.

His hand moves over the canvass almost like his mind is directing his hand without recollection, odd perhaps, but that's the way it is. His hand moves instinctively to the right spot, building a new picture, often one he has never seen before. In these fantastical worlds he can see reflections of his own mind, the way he thinks, but there is something else there too. He doesn't know what, perhaps he just imagines it, but when he paints he feels it gives him a peace he cannot find another way. He knows that he's becoming closer to his father as he too felt the way Dan does.

What felt like minutes to Dan were hours and before he knew it he was cut off by a shrieking bell and microscopic pieces of broken graphite on his papered canvas.

Dan tilted his back looking at the ceiling feeling sudden rage prick him. If he could he would sketch and paint for all of eternity.

Mister Auburn clicked his way over as the sound of dress shoes hit the disgustingly tiled floor. "How'd it go?"

Dan snapped his gaze up at his teacher, sighing. "Fast."

Auburn smiled, then clasped a hand on his shoulder. "I would let you paint in my class all day if I could, but sadly math was invented."

Dan chuckled moving his shoulders weakly with it. "To be smarter, you gotta think, and to think smarter you gotta learn."

Auburn stared at his sketch, his eyes moved over every inch of the project. "You're right," He moves his gaze from the masterpiece to Dan. He then pointed at the canvas. "This means something and I have no idea what—"

Dan stood up and swiped the canvas away from Auburn's look. "You'll figure it out later," Dan walked away, smiling. "Great artists don't reveal their soul till they're ready."