Teens Will Be Teens

Drawing

My eyes widen, as I step further into the shadows of the building. The boy stands straighter, cocking his head to the side and he squints in my direction.
The three others, unfazed by their partner gazing into the darkness, continue loitering around, searching lazily for clues and unimportant variables.
They boy takes a step forward, his face softening, as I scramble back into the safety of the building, hopefully not seen by anyone else. The door shuts briskly behind me, shutting out the noise and annoyance from the outside world.
I lay my back against the door, sliding down it as I hold my face. I come to a stop at the floor, my back snacking the metal fringe.
But, I'm too flabbergasted to wince. I hold my face tightly in my cool hands, my knees folding and coming to meet my elbows.
Who was that? And how could I let him see me? I tighten my wrists, turning my knuckles into a ghostly white. My sadness and confusion quickly turn to hatred and vengeance, as I mentally scream, clutching my body against itself.
I hear a soft knock from the door behind me, and the mumbling of voices. I shoot up, smacking my back against the lip of the door handle, and sprint down the hall.
I run as fast as I can, my inhuman speed propelling me forward. The cool breeze trickles my face as I plop my feet to the ground, heading for my room.
The menacing door swings open on my command, pushing it feverishly, to let me enter. Once inside, I curl up into a ball on my ragged, red sheets. I shake, the irritating blankets chafing my skin as I rock back and forth, waiting for night to rise.
***
Beastboy's POV

It's been 3 days since Ravens death, the Titans holding on to their happiness by its last strand. No one's talked, joked, or really made eye contact since we last saw the enchanting empath, we've all just sat, and thought about what happened.
Small talk was exchanged, mostly "good mornings" and "thank yous". Nothing enough to be labeled a conversation.
I sit up from my position on the couch, in the form of a cat, lazily draped over the arm of the sofa. Robin stands at the super computer, his black hair trickling down his face along with microscopic beads of sweat.
Starfire, I assume, is off doing something in her quarters, probably feeding or bathing silkie. Cyborg, the 1/2 man 1/2 machine is working on the t-car, like always, but, I think it's more than that.
I swing my legs over the side of the couch, and use them to spring up. I head for my room, waiting for the unexpected crime alert to sound, but the silence of it sends chills up my short spine.
Logging in the code for my room, the door swooshes open, allowing me to enter. The smell of week old tofu hits me like a sack of potatoes, and my eyes roll back into my head.
I shake myself aware, as I gradually make my way to my dresser, trying to avoid the obstacles in my way. I open a drawer, a large sketch book shown from the top, as I pick it up, and sit on my bunk bed.
Countless pictures of Raven show themselves on the pages, all of which, were hand drawn. I come to a fresh page, pondering the possibilities for a new sketch.
My steady pencil hits the paper, effortlessly drawing lines, and shapes that resemble the goddess, showing her off in a flattering way.
Her cloak enveloped in a easy sway, her body propelled to fight. I lick my finger, dragging the color across be page like a graceful swan, relaxing itself with each stroke.
Satisfied, I carefully set down my creation, tucking it away in my dresser again, it's resting place until I draw another piece.
I smile, and sit back down, thinking of her, until the crime alert rings.

((The picture attached is what Beastboy drew))