The Art Of Love / l.h ✔️

4

~Fae's POV~

Thankfully, I ended up getting the supplies that I needed for art class, being a sketchbook and two large poster boards, just like Mr. Thomason had instructed us to. Obviously, I didn't get pencils because I already had plenty of those. If I'm being honest, I probably didn't even need to get a new sketchbook considering I had so many in my room, but I got one anyways.

Okay, I might've used art class as an excuse for getting a new sketchbook. So what? I really liked having new ones. There was something about having a new sketchbook and opening up to that first page, knowing that all of them were clean and unused. Free for me to fill with the creations of my imagination. It was one of my favorite things, for some reason--that feeling it gave me.

On Wednesday morning, I rolled out of bed and headed into the bathroom, not surprised to see when I looked in the mirror that my black hair was practically a nest on top of my head. I rolled around a lot when I slept, so it got messed up quite a lot.

I let the shower water heat up and took off my pajamas, yawning tiredly. It took me quite a while to wake up in the mornings, so it was really no surprise that I was still half asleep, even as I turned on the tap water and grabbed my toothbrush. The heat from the shower was fogging up the bathroom, as well as the glass on the mirror, making my skin feel warm and sticky. It was a pretty gross feeling, actually.

Once I squirted some toothpaste onto my toothbrush, I wet the brush and began to brush my teeth, taking my time. When I was sure that my morning breath was no more, I spit into the sink and mouth washed, swishing it around with my cheeks puffed out like a squirrel with nuts in its mouth. When I had rinsed my mouth, I flossed and then got into the shower, stepping beneath the stream of water that had been pelting onto the shower floor moments before.

It wet my hair, slicking it down my back as the water warmed my skin more. First I washed my hair, making my hands soapy and sudsy, though I rinsed them off once my hair was lathered. After I had shampooed and conditioned my hair, I washed my face and body before I got out, not needing to shave, since I'd done that recently. I wrapped my body in a towel after I'd dried off as much as possible and then left the bathroom, flicking the light off as I went. I went to my dresser and began to search for a pair of undergarments, eventually settling on wearing a matching pair of black and red panties and bra. My hair was still very wet, so the coldness of it against my back made goosebumps rise on my skin, the droplets of water trailing down my skin as they slipped from the strands of hair. Not wanting to feel uncomfortable, I slipped on a big tank top and got out all of my makeup, then crawled into bed with it so I could begin to get ready.

After I'd finished putting on my makeup, of which my brows took me the longest to do, I sighed in relief and shut my makeup caboodle. I wasn't sure why my brows always took me the longest, to be honest, but maybe it was because I was really picky with what my brows looked like.

I pulled off the big tank top I had on and left it on my bed, skittering into my closet so I could find an outfit to wear. Unlike most times, I was pretty quick to find an outfit today, but that was probably because I knew I was running late and I didn't really feel like trying to be cute in my fashion today. No, I was more in the mood to just be comfortable. So I got dressed in a big sweater that was a soft brown, like cocoa, and a pair of beige pants with singular lined brown stripes on them. Lastly, I pulled on a pair of black combat boots and hustled out of my closet, rushing into the bathroom. My hair still needed to be brushed!

After yanking a brush through my slightly tangled hair, I left the bathroom, heading over to my vanity to put on my deodorant and some perfume. Once I was all ready, I grabbed my backpack and made sure that I had my sketchbook in it before also grabbing the poster boards I'd bought, heading out with them. All I could think was how lucky I was that it wasn't raining or these poster boards would've gotten ruined.