Work Text:
Brian loved watching you sketch in your notebook.
The first couple of times you had caught him staring at you, his eyes glittering, but face surprisingly blank, you had assumed that he wanted your attention. It had been a while since you had established a relationship with him, but there were still times that you were flustered to know that he was yours.
Somewhat.
You were still apprehensive concerning Brian’s… extracurricular activities and his affection for you.
(And by affection, you clearly meant everlasting devotion bordering on obsession).
Regardless, whenever you seemed disturbed or uncomfortable by his staring, Brian’s eyes would furrow a little, which only heightened your embarrassment. However, your fear would be assuaged by what happened next.
He would always offer you a kind, but muted smile before pointing at your sketchbook once again. It was a calm, but almost childish gesture. Draw for him, it seemed to say. Relax and don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.
And well, when you’re stuck with a man who you know has been affiliated with circumstances not appropriate for polite company, you couldn’t help but acquiesce to his requests.
Sometimes, you would draw people. Other times, fancy landscapes and vistas would pique your interest and you would hasten your fingers and search the recesses for your imagination to better align your perceived vision and what you eventually drew on paper. Sometimes, a bout of madness would take over and you would draw abstract, almost nonsensical figures and shapes to bide your time.
Brian loved all of them.
In particular, he happened to like it whenever you drew your nonsensical shapes and fever dreams. There was meaning there, he had said. A meaning that you couldn’t quite grasp. You tried questioning him, but he would wave you off and putter around his editing software on his aged laptop.
(You tried asking a couple times what he was doing, but you never did get a straight answer out of him).
Whatever the case, you kept drawing because you had nothing else to do.
(There was nothing that you could do… especially after he had taken you away).
But there were times… times when night would come and you would find yourself itching for your colored pencils, your charcoal, or your paints. You had to draw…
You had to draw him.
Him. The man who had taken you away from your previous life, had forced you to remain submissive and docile, and was still encouraging the one thing that challenged you and kept you alive.
You wanted to draw Brian.
But how should you draw him?
Would you prefer to draw a mere caricature? Or would a realistic depiction do him justice?
The thing about drawing specific things—like people, in this instance—you needed a reference. You’ve heard of people posing for others, but you weren’t quite sure if Brian would be willing to stay still for you. He was the quiet sort of man, observant too, but the way he would stare.
It was unsettling.
And so, for a few anxiety inducing moments, you merely wondered if you should just picture him in your mind’s eye. Memory would serve as your muse.
You put your pencil to paper and—
Nothing.
For some odd reason, you somehow lost all memory of what Brian looked like. Were you suffering from artist’s block? Has your memory become faulty somehow?
You struggled for a few moments before settling on drawing something else.
Unfortunately, Brian, ever the watchful observer, picked up on your distress and walked towards you, a concerned look in his dark eyes. Apprehensive now, you practically drop your pencil atop your notebook, your breathing hitching in confusion as Brian sits in front of you.
“You know, you can draw me anytime you want,” he offered nonchalantly. “All you have to do is ask.”
You swallowed hard and nodded before picking up your pencil once more.
“Is… is it okay if I draw you?”
Brian smiled and said, “Of course.”
And then you drew him—him, the figure in your nightmares and dreams, the hooded figure in the woods, and the one who held your heart.
The drawing came out better than you expected.