Work Text:
It wasn't a secret to Marcus that you took art classes in high school. If anything, it was a given when you think about your current career was a freelance artist. He just never saw any of your old art. You just stated once that it wasn't something you had wanted to share. So he never asked about it again.
However, curiosity was an interesting thing. With you out the house for the day with your visiting family, he stepped into your studio. Your studio always brought a sense of calmness to wash over him. Perhaps it was from the memories of laying across the futon and watching you paint with an audiobook playing in the background. Or just the way you looked so lovely with your lip between your teeth as you concentrated.
There was a bookshelf by the door that was lined with art books and old sketchbooks. He sat criss cross on the floor in front of it. His fingers slid across the bindings as he debated if he was really going to look through them without you knowing.
With a deep breath, Marcus pulled out a sketchbook labeled with the years when you were a senior. The cover was plastered with old stickers from just random things. The binding was falling apart and the papers seemed to be slightly warped. He opened the book carefully, scared of tearing it.
The first few pages were attempts at learning anatomy. He was impressed to see how far you've come. There were some doodles that didn't make any sense to Marcus but seemed to be some type of inside joke. He saw some scrawled out notes. It took him a bit to understand them but when he did, he saw they were poems.
His eyes widened as he continued to flick through it. Some pages were just practice, some gags but there were some that saddened him. Marcus knew that high school wasn't the happiest point in your life but seeing some of the angst drawings you made hurt him. He wondered for a moment if you had made any drawings like that recently.
He hoped you didn't. It wasn't just for the fact that he wanted to make you happy but the idea you would hide away your emotions from him. Marcus looked over at your desk that had your newer sketchbook on it. You were about halfway through it. He closed the book, placing it back onto the shelf before getting up to sit in your desk chair.
The first few pages were some flower doodles and commission drawings. He smiled as he remembered you asking him for his opinion on the sketches. Then he paused.
It was a simple pencil drawing but it was of him when he fell asleep on the futon a few weeks back. There was a poem written in the top corner of the drawing. He sniffled as he read it.
"Sometimes, I wonder how you came to me,
In shades of yellow and green.
How you decided to stay by my side,
with my shades of purple and blue.
I know that I love you,
with every color there is,
so I hope you stay
and let me feel the warmth of your tones."
He slowly closed the book. One hand wiped his cheeks off as he pulled out his phone. With a smile, he sent you a simple text message that simply said, "I love you, baby. If I could give you all the colors in the world, I would plus more." With that, Marcus got up from the desk and left your studio behind with plans of making you your favorite dinner.