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Equius joins the dozen or so classmates shuffling into the large room, dumping their bags on the floor before rummaging through for their supplies. Wait, supplies? Equius blinks, as it dawns on him that he should’ve brought supplies with him to an art class. Most of the other students come equipped with cases of pencils, paints, and markers.
He just kinda…might’ve sorta assumed the necessary drawing materials would be provided by the professor and that he wouldn’t be expected to buy his own. This appears to be not the case. How humiliating, to be the only one unprepared.
“Fiddlesticks,” Equius mutters, reaching back into his bag and rummaging around until he manages to find one pencil that hasn’t been snapped in half and a very dirty eraser that’s at least five years old. They will have to make do for now. He'll try and pick some up for the next class.
Enough easels are set up to accompany each student, all of them in a circle. Only one remains available. Equius sits down in front of it, and checks the time on his phone. 12:55 in the afternoon. Class will be officially starting in five minutes.
He hears footsteps from the doorway. A slender person with a shaved head and dark brown skin walks in, carrying a stack of papers in one hand and a briefcase in the other. Ah, that must be the professor.
They squirm through the easels into the middle of the clearing and smile at the students. “Hello! It’s nice to see that everyone has shown up today. My name is Calliope Umbra, but you can just call me Callie if you’d like. I am the professor for this class. Welcome to Anatomy and Visual Art!”
A couple of students clap, but Equius just keeps his hands in his lap. He fights the urge to roll his eyes. Ugh, he knew this class wouldn’t take itself seriously. School is a place for learning, and professors should be…well…professional! Callie is wearing a smock over a green turtleneck and gray leggings. Equius figures the smock makes sense, as Callie obviously wouldn’t want to get paint on their clothes, but everything else is much too casual for a teacher.
Equius forces himself to remember why he took this class. And that he can’t graduate without at least one art credit. He’ll have no choice but to tough this one out.
Glancing over the syllabus Callie handed him, Equius is really gonna have to tough this course out. Instead of midterms and exams, there’s art pieces that are due at specific intervals during the term. A sketch at first, then a full body black and white with shading and details, and then one with colour and the whole kitchen sink. And this is supposed to be a beginner’s class too, no prerequisite required! Did Equius make a mistake somehow!?
Callie is explaining the syllabus and class rules, but Equius finds himself tuning them out. He’s grateful when they dismiss him and his classmates early; today just seemed to be an easygoing class to go over the basics instead of doing any artsy stuff. Equius is fine with that.
He records a reminder on his phone to pick up actual supplies for next week and reminds himself it’s only two hours every Thursday. And then he’ll have his freaking art credit and will never have to sit in front of an easel again.
Don’t sweat it, Zahhak. It’s just art. You’ll be fine.
Oh, he’s definitely gonna sweat it.
Next Thursday, Equius actually shows up prepared this time. He brings with him some admittedly cheap selections of pencils for drawing; mechanical because they are less likely to snap in half, and charcoal because that’s what the employee at the dollar store found. He sits at the same easel as last time. Callie is already here, accompanied by a young woman in a bathrobe.
It dawns on Equius exactly what he’ll be sketching in this class. He must’ve missed that part in the syllabus.
Oh, fiddlesticks.
The woman in the robe smiles politely at him, her lips slipping upwards at the ends. She has warm light brown skin, and short hazelnut colour hair that curls all over the place but still frames her slender face nicely. She is quite short, but judging from what Equius can see of her arms when she adjusts the sleeves of the robe, she is also quite muscular and clearly works out. Equius can’t recall ever seeing her at the campus gym, though.
When 1 o’clock hits, Callie begins the class. “Welcome back, everyone. Allow me to introduce our model for our class. This is Nepeta Leijon, my assistant. As you recall in the syllabus, you will occasionally be using a nude model to reference for your drawings, and that will also be Nepeta. This is not an excuse to show her any disrespect whatsoever. You’re all young adults, you understand what this course is about, so I expect you to be mature in this studio, and both accommodating and polite to Nepeta.”
Equius nods along, feeling beads of sweat forming on his brow. This is technically his fault for not reading the syllabus properly or listening to Callie last week, but the idea of drawing a naked woman, even though it’s in the name of fine art and she completely consented to it…
Okay, look. He’s not a prude. He swears! It’s just…look…if the only art practice he has is drawing nude people, Aradia’s gonna think he’s a bigger freak than he actually is. She might call him a pervert or something, and want nothing to do with him again. Equius can’t have that. He doesn’t want to make a bigger fool out of himself in front of Aradia than he already has.
He could drop the course…but that would wound his pride severely. Equius Zahhak is a lot of things, but he is not a quitter. He refuses to let something so subjective like drawing get the best of him. He will dominate this class, damn it.
Nepeta is sitting on a stool in the middle of the circle of easels and has her robe off. Equius snaps back to attention as he realizes everything around him has begun drawing and he completely missed Callie’s instructions.
“Equius?” his professor asks him, voice a mixture of kindness and worry. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything is just fine, Mx. Umbra,” Equius coughs. He could really use a towel right now. There isn’t anywhere to get one. Ugh, his clothes are gonna be soaked.
Callie walks off to check on another student. Equius fiddles with his pencils as he glances around, trying to figure out what he should be doing. It seems that he’s the only one out of his element; every other student seems to have some experience with visual art. Brows are furrowed in concentration, tongues poking out between lips, they all seem to know what they want to do.
And because Equius isn’t embarrassed enough, Nepeta is staring right at him. Which means Equius gets the honour of drawing her boobs.
Just lovely.
As it turns out, Equius has no idea how to draw boobs. This is supposed to be a simple warm up sketch to get everyone used to the routine, Callie explains again, and Equius is anything but used to it. He draws a pair of circles, then erases them and draws some ovals instead. Then erases those. He tries moving to Nepeta’s head instead. Figuring out the form of her face under all that hair.
Nothing is working. Equius throws down his pencils on the floor in frustration, ignoring the confused look the man next to him gives.
“Time!” Callie announces, mercifully sparing Equius from further humilation. “Everyone take a quick breather, and then we’ll come back with Nepeta in a new pose.”
Class has only been going for thirty minutes. Equius feels like he’s gonna die. This was a total mistake and now he’s stuck in the stupid studio for the next ten weeks. Nice job, Zahhak. The things you do to impress a girl who pretends to not even know your name.
He’s guzzling vitamin water from his bag when a slender hand suddenly holds something out to him. “Here.”
Equius looks down. It’s Nepeta, back in her fluffy robe, and holding out his pencils to him. “You dropped them,” she explains with a giggle. “And I figured you might want them back. These can be pretty expensive sometimes.”
The way she rolls her r sounds…Equius has never heard anything like it before. “Thank you,” he replies, taking his pencils back.
“First time?” Nepeta asks.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I mean, is it your first time in an art class?” Nepeta asks. “Callie teaches most of the other guys pretty regularly, and they said that you were a new face. Which honestly, I think is super awesome! It goes to show how important art is to our culture, that so many people want to make it even as a hobby or something to do just because.”
“Not me,” Equius huffs. The irony of that statement is not lost on him. “I am only here because I am required to take an art credit for my degree. Otherwise, I would not be caught dead in this building.”
Nepeta smirks. “Oh, I don’t know about that! I think you’re gonna actually like it here!”
“Absolutely not.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“Nepeta!” Callie suddenly calls. “Equius! Are you two ready? We’re going to do another Quick-Sketch-Sesh!”
Nepeta giggles again, slipping off her robe and dumping it in Equius’s hands. “Come on, Equius! You get to draw my boobs again! Or maybe my butt, if you need a new perspective.”
“Must you say that so casually and so loud? Nudity is not a joking matter!” Equius folds up the robe neatly and places it on a nearby table. “It could be seen as almost disrespectful, the way you so explicitly treat such a vulnerable state.”
Nepeta actually full on laughs at his words. “That’s art for you, buddy! It’s all about breaking the social norms. That’s part of the fun.”
This is gonna be a long class.
On the third week, Equius learns what shading is. And he decides that he hates it.
Callie warms up the class with another Quick-Sketch-Sesh, encouraging everyone to practice their shading techniques that will be crucial in future assignments. Equius breaks three of his charcoal pencils. He grinds his teeth and bites at his lips, continuing to glare at Nepeta’s thighs as if they somehow offended him. He erases, sketches, then erases again. Because no matter what he does, what he draws, nothing looks right.
After the warm up is over, Nepeta joins him as they take a water break. “You need to remember how to breathe.”
“I do know how to breathe,” Equius snaps. “It’s not my fault you’re a difficult reference to draw.”
Nepeta chuckles, and playfully rolls her eyes. “Well, aren’t you a charmer! But don’t worry too much about it, alright? When I first started out drawing, I wanted to give up all the time too. But I’ve come a long way since, and as much as I wanna cringe when I see my art from high school, I try not to. It means I’ve improved!”
They both glance over at Equius’s paper. While every other student has managed to draw something halfway decent and show off their experience or talents, his work is nothing but a mess of eraser smudges and crooked lines.
“It’s awful,” Equius moans.
“It’s not that bad.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“I’m not giving you pity!” Nepeta insists. “I mean it! It’s not bad!” She sounds surprisingly earnest, honesty coating her every word. Equius blinks.
Looking back at his paper, he can kinda see it now. At the very least, there’s a vague outline of Nepeta’s legs. It’s better than his sketches from last week, which are stashed under his bed in hopes that nobody will ever find his sordid attempts at drawing a boob. He would die of pure embarrassment.
“This is difficult,” Equius admits. He fights the urge to hang his head in shame.
Nepeta shrugs. “It might help if you think like an artist and not like an engineer.”
“That will not be happening. I am an engineer, it’s what my discipline is.” Equius sniffs.
“Well, then you’re gonna have to be an artist for this class.” Nepeta punches him in the arm. “Tell you what. Meet me outside the building afterwards. I’ll take you to my favourite supply store, and we’ll get you some proper pencils. No more of those cheapo kinds. It’ll make a difference. Trust me.”
For some reason, Equius does.
“What motivated you to take this class?” Nepeta asks Equius as the two of them walk to Michael’s an hour and a half later. “If you’re the engineering, mechanical, hands-on kinda guy, you seem like you’d prefer working backstage for the theater kids instead.”
“Absolutely not,” Equius insists. “I have no time for such melodramatics. I find musicals to be grating on the ears.”
“Okay…but then why a visual art class?”
“It is none of your concern.” Equius shoves his hands into his pockets as they turn down the main street. “I don’t see why it matters, to be frank.”
“Tell me!”
“No.”
“Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me-”
“Ugh, alright! Fine!” Equius huffs loudly. “I wanted to impress a girl in my history class. She said she liked artists and I told her that I drew my own art.”
As expected, Nepeta begins to cackle. “Seriously!? Equius! Why would you do something so stupid?”
“I do not know. I am still disappointed in myself too.” Equius sighs. “But now she wants to see my art. And I have nothing good to show her. And again, I need the credit to complete my degree. The stars had lined up in an unfortunate way.”
“Awww,” Nepeta responds playfully. “Well, if it's any consolation, you’re not the first idiot to be in that class, and I'm sure that you won’t be the last. We’ll just have to make sure you draw the best art possible to show her.”
At Michael’s, Nepeta helps Equius pick out new charcoal pencils, watercolour markers, and some paints. She rambles in his ear about the specifics of each brand, what she recommends for the class, and what she personally likes to use. It amazes Equius that someone could be so knowledgeable about this kind of stuff.
But then again, when Nepeta asks him about his other classes as he walks her back to her apartment, Equius realizes that he too could go on for hours about robotics. Perhaps he and Nepeta aren’t that different.
“You know,” he says when they reach the building she lives in. “It is quite funny to actually see you with clothes on.”
Nepeta bursts into laughter. “You’re so funny! Weird, but funny!”
“I resent that statement.”
Nepeta punches his shoulder. “Oh, please! Take it as a compliment. Everybody’s a weirdo in art. It comes with the discipline.”
For some reason, Equius doesn’t think he minds Nepeta’s jabs as much. They have much less malice to them than Aradia’s does. When Aradia calls Equius weird, it’s always dripping with disgust. Nepeta, on the other hand, seems alight with mischief. She may mean her words, but not to hurt Equius’s feelings. She sees it as a good thing.
He thinks he likes it. Likes being around Nepeta. It’s different from Aradia, with how he used to seek her out despite her seeming hatred of him. But Nepeta seems to seek Equius out too.
Could he have maybe made a companion in this blasted class?
Equius’s first assignment comes and goes, and he submits a sketch of Nepeta’s face as his work. It’s sloppy, in comparison to what his classmates turn in, but it’s Nepeta and that’s what matters. He thinks he liked how her eyes came out, the way her head is pointed slightly to the side as if staring at something interesting over his shoulder. It’s rather easy to get lost in Nepeta’s olive green eyes when they look each other during the Quick-Sketch-Seshes.
Then they have to make a still life of a bowl of fruit, and Equius can’t believe he’s saying this, but he misses drawing Nepeta’s boobs.
At least when Nepeta is his muse, Equius feels a connection. Inspiration. Seeing Nepeta sitting there makes him want to create. He has no particular attachment to some fucking oranges and bananas. They’re just objects. Nepeta sparks a drive in him to keep going that Equius has never felt before.
Sometimes, he forgets his whole gripe with this class in the first place. He forgets about impressing Aradia when there’s a whole woman right there who always looks happy to see them. The fifth class, she runs to him and tackles him in a hug when he shows up. Callie laughs. Equius doesn’t see what’s so funny.
He forgets to show Aradia his works but it’s fine because he kinda forgets to think about her, period.
After the sixth week, the halfway mark, Nepeta approaches him while Equius works on his sketch for his next assignment. “What are you doing for the winter break?” she asks. “Going back to see your family?”
“Probably not,” Equius replies. Not like there’s really much to miss from home. His neighbours are annoying to be around and the one he actually talked left to attend school six hours away. He highly doubts his father is managing well on his own, if he hasn’t gone postal and needed to be sent to the looney bin, and Horuss is always over at his boyfriend’s house anyways. It would be a week of tortuous silence, with nothing to fill the void. At least here, he has distractions.
Nepeta nods. “Maybe we could hang out some more during the break if you want! I like seeing you outside of class too, you’re pretty fun to spend time with! We could go to the movies, or the mall…”
“A movie sounds like a nice outing,” Equius agrees, wiping charcoal off his hands with a towel. He’s been so focused he’s practically forgotten to sweat. “Between…acquaintances, I suppose.”
Nepeta scoffs. “And not friends?”
“Well, we shall see about that.” Deep down, Equius doesn’t mind being Nepeta’s friend. But he's got a reputation to maintain, obviously. So he won't admit it just yet.
They go see a movie on Sunday. Then on Wednesday. Then on Friday. By Saturday, the cashier already has Nepeta’s Peanut M&Ms waiting on the counter for her and knows to put extra butter in the popcorn the way Equius likes it. They leave the theater holding hands and neither of them comment on it. Equius drives Nepeta back to her apartment and she invites him inside for some chamomile tea. They sit on her couch and cuddle together in a fuzzy blanket while Nepeta’s cat Pounce De Leon naps at their feet.
“This is nice,” Nepeta tells him.
“It is,” Equius agrees.
“Are we friends now?” she asks him, a sense of hope in her voice. As if she wants that, or more. Equius thinks back about how Nepeta has gone from model to muse in his head, and what that could mean for her in the real world.
He isn’t sure he’d want to date her as a girlfriend, that just seems a bit different. But being friends…they’ve already crossed over that threshold. Maybe they’re something in between. And maybe that’s okay. It’s subjective. Like art.
Art isn’t engineering. In engineering, there is no room for failure or else the results will be catastrophic. In art, Equius is free to wipe the canvas clean as many times as he wants. He thinks…he thinks…he thinks he likes that.
Who knew art could be so poetic? Probably everyone else did. Equius’s cheeks hit up as he imagines Nepeta laughing at his density. But he likes her laugh. It’s better than when Aradia snickered or jeered at him, her face contorted in mockery.
He makes up his mind right then and there. He had started the class for Aradia, but he’ll finish it for himself.
Two hours might seem like a long time for some, but for Equius, they pass by in a blink of an eye. Callie writes “amazing improvements!” on the feedback form for his sketch, and he and Nepeta go out for Chinese food to celebrate. They go back to her apartment, as is routine, and fall asleep in her bed together. Suffocating but warm and pleasant.
“It’ll sadden me when the term is over,” Equius admits. “I must say, it is quite pleasant to just sit there and create. And seeing you every class is lovely too. I will miss that.”
Nepeta pats his cheek. “Awwww, Eq. We can still hang out after the term!”
“That would be nice. I have grown quite fond of you, Nepeta Leijon.” Equius puts his hand on Nepeta’s. “I am glad to have pursued this relationship with you. Even if I am not quite sure in what parameters to define it.”
Nepeta makes a shushing sound. “Not everything has to have labels, you know. Sometimes they’re nice, but sometimes an artist just does what they want for the sake of it, the bandwagon be damned.”
The next morning, she asks Equius if she can draw him. He sits uncomfortably still for an hour while Nepeta muses over her papers with all her art supplies messily strewn about on the coffee table. The end result is almost lifelike, Equius’s deep blue eyes practically popping off the page. His lips pursed together tightly, his chiseled jaw and the neck underneath, his long hair running down his back despite a few strands that stubbornly insist on falling down his face.
Equius draws Nepeta next and it’s strange to be drawing her with her clothes still on, but he thinks he’s learned enough tricks to be able to tackle the challenge of sketching wrinkles and creases. The final result is some of the best work he’s ever made. Nepeta insists on hanging it up and Equius pretends not to flush.
He snaps a photo with Nepeta’s instant camera and tucks it into his jacket for later.
In the last class of the term, Callie creates a gallery. Everyone’s work is put on display, the three pieces they were tasked with creating to pass the course. Equius wanders about the studio, taking in his classmates’ accomplishments, marveling at the beauty and splendor.
The sketches are all of Nepeta, and he loves how her presence looms in the gallery but doesn’t detract from her artists. He sees all sides of her, from the front to the back and then around again. Her curves, from the way her stomach pudges up when she curls in on herself, to an arm draped over a leg. Her hair, covering her face or not, so perfectly crafted. Equius doesn’t think he could name a better muse.
But the final paintings being displayed are his favourite. For no two are alike in subject. Each student has chosen a different scene to capture a moment of, and it says so much about who they are as people. What inspires them, shapes their core being. A grassy hill, a tulip in a blue vase on a windowsill, a dog with a frisbee in its mouth.
Equius comes by his own, and he can’t help but smile.
The photo he used as a reference is pinned to the corkboard above his desk at home. But he’s committed the whole picture to memory. Him and Nepeta sitting on her couch, a fuzzy green blanket over their laps. Equius holds up the camera and gives a toothy smile, while Nepeta wraps her arms around his neck and smushes her lips against his cheek. Pounce can barely just be seen in the corner, although she more or less came out as a giant white splotch on the canvas. Equius doesn’t think she’s very paintable. But he doesn't say that out loud because he doesn't want to hurt the cat or Nepeta's feelings. She is quite protective over Pounce.
“Beautiful work, Equius,” Callie tells him, beaming with pride. “I know you were apprehensive at first, but you grew so much in this class and I’m proud of you.”
Equius gifts the painting to Nepeta once the display is over, and he’ll always have that exact moment frozen in his head forever. The way she burst into tears and hugged him, never wanting to let him go. Maybe he could paint that next.