shattered | f.w, d.m

fifteen

Keziah.

January, 1998.

—

"Here you are." Draco let himself into his dorm.

"Here I am." Keziah lay on her stomach upon the smooth wooden floor of his dorm, right by his bed. She had her art supplies sprawled around her as she painted on a canvas. "Do you need something?"

"No." He shook his head as he set his book bag on the usual armchair he always did. "I was coming here to do homework. Didn't expect to see you here."

"Mmm..." She nodded and stroked the paint-covered bristles of her paintbrush over the light sketch on her canvas.

She sketched out a dark forest in pencil and now she was going to make an attempt at painting it without ruining it. Art was not her finest suit, but she was bored.

She squeezed some more paint onto the palette she purchased only hours before. Everything she got for this little experiment was bought hours before.

She was often in Draco's dorm because she liked the privacy of it. He didn't have a roommate, so she would just go to his dorm to have some privacy.

"What are you painting, Keziah?" Draco took off his tie at his dresser to unwind before he crossed to her with his homework.

"I drew this." She lifted the canvas from the ground to show him her light sketch. "And now I'm going to try and paint like those big artists."

"It's pretty." He got down onto his stomach next to her, leaving two feet between them. He placed his homework in front of him on the floor. "This is what you've been doing this whole time?"

"Yeah," she said softly, and nodded. She set down the canvas and grabbed the thinnest brush she had, so she could outline her sketch. "I have no clue what I'm doing."

"I can tell," he said through a hum of a chuckle, flipping his textbook open. He took the cap off his pen with his teeth and scribbled the date onto the corner of his notebook.

Her eyes snapped to him. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"You squirted too much paint on the palette," he pointed out as he underlined the date.

"Like you're an expert." She scoffed and lifted one elbow off the ground to rub it with the opposite hand, as her elbows were pressed into the ground.

"Not an expert, but I know how to paint." He shot her a side smirk.

She shook her head at him and dipped the brush into the black paint. Her head lowered to get a closer look as she steadily stroked the paint onto the pencil sketch of her drawing.

They both lay on their stomachs in a comfortable silence as they did their own thing. She squirted more colours onto the palette, a big blob of each.

She was switching between brushes to paint the scene she sketched. The only reason why she never coloured or painted her sketches was because it ruined her sketches.

Draco finished his work and pushed his palms into the ground to haul himself up to his feet. His rings cluttered gently against the timber of the floor. The veins on his forearms flexed when he pushed his weight up, as his sleeves were rolled to his elbows.

He collected his things and padded to his desk to put it away. The sound of his drawers sliding open and shut shattered their silence.

Keziah's tongue poked slightly out of the side of her lips as she tried to blend the colours of the night sky. She tried to make an ombre, but it didn't go as she thought it would.