Don't Judge the Love (Youtuber One-Shots)

SetoSolace (Waiting)

"What would I draw, then? Really all I have to choose from are inanimate objects," the boy points out, seeming confused.

"Ah, well, my son – Seto – he's fairly patient. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sitting still for you." Mother smiles her "it'll be fun" smile and then pushes me forward a little.

"Uh, h-hi," I stammer, raising my hand a bit so I can wave. Ugh, stupid! Who waves when in such close proximity to a person? That was dumb! Ugh.

"You're Seto, then?" the boy asks, setting the notebook down on the top of the rock wall. I nod shyly, wishing my hair would grow just an inch more so it could completely cover my eyes. Oh, why am I doing this? "I'm Brice, nice to meet you!"

"Yeah, n-nice to meet you, too!" I smile, and he grins widely.

"Now, I just want to inform you both that I am not usually this accepting of strangers."

"What made you treat us differently?" I ask curiously, doing that weird head-tilt thing again. I need to stop that.

"Hey, your stutter's gone!" Brice cheers, and I blush. Oh, my gosh. "Sorry. Anyways, got off topic. You guys just seemed... I don't know." He grins more. "Just kinda awesome, I guess. What with the random squealing and stuff. You don't seem all that much like kidnappers or murderers, so."

"Why do the cute ones always have to be the ones to witness our weird moments," I groan, and then Mom pinches my arm and I freeze. "U-Uh..."

"Don't panic," Brice says quickly, laughing slightly. "If it's any consolation, I think you're adorable."

"Oh, my Notch," and I might have an almost-fainting spell again very, very soon.

"Ahem," my mother coughs, and I fight the urge to attempt to erase her memory. She'll never let me live this down. I mean, not until... well. No use getting depressed in front of pretty boys. "So, you can paint him, right? And you guys can bond while you do it!" I run my tongue over my teeth and then blow air out through my nose, and my mom (thankfully) gets the hint and starts backing away. "Right! So, if you need me, I'll be sitting on the swings, screwing around on my phone. Have fun, mkay?"

I wave slightly, and she waves back and then runs away to the swings. Good Notch, Mom.

"So. Uh. That was my mom. Sorry," I blurt out, fidgeting nervously.

"Don't be sorry, she seems really awesome," Brice replies, hopping down from the rock wall and grabbing his notebook on the way. He sticks his pencil in the spiral of the notebook's binding, and then he grabs my hand and pulls me toward one of the benches on the side of the playground.

I may or may not be blushing up a storm.

"Would you mind sitting here for the sketch? If you could sit on the back of it and put your feet on the actual seat here, that'd be great," he says, and I immediately oblige.

"Is it acceptable for us to talk while you work?" I ask, fidgeting more. How am I supposed to sit? Should I cross my legs? Should I lean forward? Should I do a perfect posture kind of thing?

Brice laughs, and it's beautiful, really, seriously, and it makes me feel even safer than Mom's laugh does, which is saying a lot. "It's perfectly acceptable! Here, get comfortable, you'll probably be stuck in the same pose for quite a while."

I nod and lean forward, putting my elbows on my thighs and then resting my chin in my hands. "There. Comfortable."

"Lovely," Brice chuckles, and then he sits down criss-cross applesauce style on the ground. "So, which school do you go to? I don't think I've met you before."