𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐃. | ɪᴅᴠ ✰

ꕤ 「Elysian」 ꕤ

You could see Edgar on the verge of breaking his canvas. That's what he would always do though. 

"That was completely useless, thank you."

He stood up and patted down his clothes a little. You knew that he wasn't going to leave yet. You smiled at the painter sarcastically. 

"Your welcome, win-streak-loser."

He turned his head back. Slowly, with his little bones cracking while he did it to make it look scarier. 

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL ME?" 

You attempted to make yourself look dumbfounded. As usual, you did it poorly as it was not what you were really trying to do. OF COURSE, you wanted to annoy him. 

Edgar really needed to breathe to the point he walked out of the room with the door open and kept going back and forth in the corridors. Some other survivors asked if he was okay and all he said was 'I'm fine, I don't need your filthy hands on me' to some he hates, and ignores the others that he's in good terms with. While he flipped off Martha every time she passed by. Then he returned after a good 30 minutes or so.

The first thing he asks you is :

"Can I paint you?"

 You looked at him, actually dumbfounded this time. 

"Why?"

"To calm my nerves."

The painter told you smiling. And him smiling is a rare thing. It's like witnessing the fucking rainbow moon bro. 

"Okay."

Oh the joy once you said yes (technically you said 'okay' but okay-) made you smile. 

"Do I need to pose or something?"

"No. Just do whatever you need to do and don't talk to me while I'm at it." 

ꕤ———ꕤ

It was a good thing he was good at keeping ones stillness in paintings because you were studying the tidal charts while he painted. He appreciated every single moment : Your graceful movements, the way you looked at the window thinking about the randomest shit you've ever thought of, taking your pen and writing your notes, everything. That's what created a blank canvas into a beautiful painting that even had you in it. If it wasn't him, you wouldn't feel anything. But Edgar's a bitch, and he's hard to please.

"Are you happy with the painting?"

His face alone screams 'I'm so fucking happy right now bro I might've created my magnum opus!'

"Yes. I am." 

You laughed at his response and took look at the painting, and honestly it looked just as amazing. The brushstrokes were clean, the lighting and the shading were on point. The proportions were well done and the way he was able to capture the moment of each thing you've ever done during the moment was the most impressive.

"This painting is truly beautiful." 

You were amazed at the painting itself as it was just as astounding as his other paintings. But as you were admiring it, you barely heard a mumble from him saying, 

"Oh y/n. You are more beautiful and as perfect than any other painting." 

Fin.