Work Text:
Click.
Whir.
Mark Fischbach with all his college glory, and he was taking pictures. Pictures of literally nothing. Trees, stairs, grass.
Well, maybe it wasn't nothing to him. It was beautiful to him. Fantastic. He loved photography. It was his thing, really.
But, of course, there was something he loved even more.
Clank.
Thunk.
You with absolutely no college glory, and you were drawing pictures. Pictures of anything. Characters, cubes, buildings.
It didn't feel like anything to you. It was boring. Dull. You loved drawing. But it was extremely difficult.
But there was one thing you would always draw.
It started on a Tuesday about a month ago. A piece of something slid under your dorm room door, a photo. It was a picture of the front steps of the school. On the back was a note.
"If you ever have trouble drawing, you can always draw my pictures." No name, just a dorm room number. You stared at the picture for a moment before smiling. You set it on your desk and started to draw the picture, laughing at the ridiculous cliché feeling of it all. Yet, it was nice.
The next day you had finished the drawing, and as you admired your work, an idea came.
A picture for a drawing. You had the stranger's room number, you could easily give it to them. On the back, you scribbled your own note.
"If you ever have pictures you don't need, I'll draw them."
Bringing you to now. You anticipated pictures every once in a while, and finally, one slid under your door.
A person. This photographer had taken a picture of someone at the college, just some random person. The note said, "Guess who?"
You drew it anyways. Your note said, "Who?" You went to slide it under the dorm room door the next day. The person in the picture was definitely handsome, obviously male, and had the greatest complexion you had ever had the courtesy to draw.
Maybe it was the stranger.
Ha. Yeah, right.
You made your way to the dorm room and knelt to slip the paper underneath the door. You listened until the paper was picked up before walking away. The door may have opened, but it didn't matter.
The next photo was a shocker, mostly because it was a picture of you. You had been sitting on the front steps of the college, and the stranger had taken a picture of you. You wanted to say it was odd, but you had been communicating with this person through art for a month. It didn't feel odd.
So you started to draw yourself. It was an odd feeling to draw the contours of your face and body, but it was nice.
You approached the dorm room, drawing in hand. You knelt, about to slip the paper underneath.
"Can I help you?" a voice made you jump. You stood and turned to see a guy, tall, red short, short hair. His face lit up. "No way. You're the mystery artist!"
"I am?" you asked, unsure.
"Yeah, my roommate Mark keeps all your drawings on a board."
"And he does photography, right?"
"Everyday." He held out his hand. "I'm Wade."
"(YN)." You shook his hand.
"You want to come in?" You shrugged. "I don't bite. Don't worry." You shrugged again. "I mean, you don't have to. I guess I do have to go meet my girlfriend soon, anyways."
"You have a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, Molly." You let out a breath. "Was that why? Trust me, I won't do anything."
"Yeah, I feel better." Wade nodded as he went to unlock the dorm room, pushing the door inwards. It was roomy, with two beds and one desk. There was a closet, too, but it didn't seem full of stuff.
"The board is above his bed," Wade pointed out. You looked at it, peering at your own artwork. "He always says that the front steps are his favourite. Here, hand me that picture?" Wade pointed to the one you clutched, which you gave him. He pinned it to the board, careful to avoid the graphite, and smiled. "That's you, right?"
"Yeah. I didn't know he knew I studied there," you said, nodding.
"It's really good."
"Thanks." A knock on the door. Wade went to open it, revealing a girl on the other side.
"Oh, hey, Molly," Wade said, letting her in.
"Hey," she replied, then looked to you. "Who's this?"
"Remember the mystery artist?" Wade pointed to you. "That's her." Molly looked excited, ecstatic almost.
"Really? Wow, this is cool. Wade showed me your drawings before. They're great!"
"Thanks!" you said enthusiastically.
"No problem!" She turned to Wade. "Hey, we better get going or we won't catch the movie." Wade nodded.
"Yeah, we better go," he agreed, turning to you. "I don't know if you want to wait for Mark to get back."
"I don't have to," you assured.
"Actually, I think he got off of work a couple minutes ago," Molly said.
"Oh, that's true. He comes straight back here afterwards. He'll only be a few more minutes."
"I guess that's okay," you agreed. Wade nodded, then pulled it his phone.
"Actually, I'll text him that you're here so he doesn't freak out." He tapped for a few moments before he pocketed his phone. "Done." He pointed to the mini fridge that you didn't spot before. "There's probably some stuff in there if you're hungry. You'll be okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Wade, it was nice to meet you guys."
"No problem." Wade left the dorm, along with Molly. You eyed the room. They were nicer than you thought. expected. Molly didn’t seem overly mean, and neither did Wade, despite you slipping paper under his door like some sort of creep. At least, that’s how it seemed. They almost felt like parents, but more so ones that were trusting.
You were about to stand to look at the fridge when the door opened.
“Is someone in here?” a deep-ish voice asked, slowly poking their head through the door. You straightened as you saw a man walk in. It had to be the man from the picture before. Either that, or it was his twin. “Oh, hey,” he said, seeming to be sort of shy, but overall chill. “I’m Mark.”
“I know,” you said. “You’re the photographer that gave me a bunch of pictures to draw.” Mark rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, almost embarrassed.
“I didn’t actually think you’d draw any of them. And if you did, I never thought you’d draw my face.”
“I drew that picture of me, too.” You pointed to the board. “Your roommate Wade hung it up.” Mark followed your point to the drawing before he walked closer to it. You watched him as he smiled fondly.
“It’s great,” he said after a few moments before turning to you. “It’s just... I always see you having trouble drawing. And sometimes I have trouble taking pictures. So maybe if I saw your drawings from my pictures, and you drew my pictures, we could both benefit.” You nodded.
“It was really cool of you to do that,” you told him. He seemed red in the cheeks now.
“Really? I don’t know, it was kind of silly...and anonymous. You didn’t know who I was until today.”
“That doesn’t make me like you any less.” Mark chuckled. "You seem really nervous."
"Well, I mean, there's a...," he trailed off and mumbled the last bit.
"There's a what?" you asked, confused. Mark shrugged, looking like he was trying to build confidence.
"There's a...pretty girl in my dorm room... I mean...who wouldn't be nervous?" He sighed, fumbling his fingers. You laughed at him.
"Well, I'm in a handsome guy's room. I think we're in the same boat." Mark grinned as he looked at you. A few moments passed. "Hey, Mark?"
"Yeah?"
"Pictures last longer, you know." Mark blushed yet again.
"Sorry, I didn't realise I was staring." You shrugged, looking around the room.
"It's okay. If you had your camera, you could-" Click. You turned back. "What was that?"
"My camera," he said. "You said that pictures lasted longer." Mark checked the camera screen, then looked at you and smiled wide. "I guess you were right."