s e r e n i t y

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s h a t t e r e d  h e a r t s

c h a p t e r  17

I don't have a clue on how to be, no one has ever drawn me before. Or at least no one has ever drawn me when I'm in a pose and such like that, like a real professional model or some sort. I think Nik has drawn me in the past when we were little children. According to that drawing, I'm a stick figure with too little hair and a really weird shaped shoes. "Just sit there and try not to move. I'll try to be quick, but pure beauty does take a lot of time to prefect" Sam says and winks at me.

I find that my cheeks warm up, and that always seems to happen when he's around me and when he speaks. Not that I mind, I don't really. It makes me feel giddy inside for some reason and I want him to make me feel all those things. However, I do try to be as he told me to be. I'm sitting down on a chair, my legs are dangling down, but by my ankles, I have my legs crossed and a bit under the chair itself. I sit by the back of the chair with my hands resting on my lap.

Sam did not want me to be uncomfortable and he actually did say that I could be in any position and still be a perfection. Somehow I can believe his words because I know that they have to be the truth, because he said them and I know that Sam would never lie to me. "How long does a drawing take?" I ask him. Not because I'm bored and I really don't want to be here, because I really do. But, rather because I want to see how good he draws and I can't wait for it.

He shrugs as he sits down on another chair that he has set up. "It depends. There is no way that I will let a drawing of you be rushed" He says to me. I give him a small smile. When his eyes look at me, I notice that his face has grown a bit focused. I can't help but admire him when he's like this. It doesn't take long for me to realize that this is his drawing face where he's so focused that he won't let anything distract him. My heart feels more joy than I have ever felt when I look at him.

Seeing him like this is so strange but at the same time I never want to look away. I don't really mind sitting here if it mans that I get to look at him. He doesn't speak as I can see he's so lost in his drawing. I don't speak either. I really don't want to disturb him. It doesn't really matter if there is talking nor anything else around us for the two of us is all what matters here. Sam drawing me and I sitting there being drawn by him.

Somehow it makes me breathe a bit lighter and I can actually find happiness. Always when I'm with him. His eyes would always look at me then at the drawing he's making and then back at me. I can see that he's trying to make i look perfect. No matter how it looks, perfect or not, I know in my very heart that I will love it. Because he made it and not because he's drawing me, but rather because he actually made it with a talent that is rare and beautiful and just simply wonderful, I know I will love it.

The wait is really hard, just like before I want to see it and I want it to be finished, I don't really mind sitting here. There really isn't anything else that I can do anyway. I really don't want to leave this room, I just want to stay here with Sam and he loves to draw. He's an artist which I'm so proud of. He can truly think outside of the box and I admire that. I really do. Sam is someone that can think in different ways and I love that about him, I love that.

An hour passes by and he's still drawing. I don't mind that much. Just as he's studying me, I'm doing the same thing to him. Except I'm not the one that is drawing him. I wish that I did have that talent to be able to draw like that. It's just not for me and I'm not the one that can draw nor paint nor do anything like that. Sam's eyes are so focused but at the same time I can see this playfulness inside them. I think I'm seeing things on him that perhaps others have never seen.

When finally three hours more pass by, he finishes the drawing. "Want to see?" He asks me. I see that proud look on his face. I nod my head. "More than anything" I tell him. And that is the truth in its purest form, I mean it. I want to see it. A small smile comes across his face as he walks over to me and hands me the sketch book that he was drawing. I let lout a gasp when I see it and I can't even believe that Sam had drawn this. He's even better than I thought he was which is so strange.

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