Ross


"Brendon," I said softly. "I n-need you to stop moving or this is g-gonna come out looking like Picasso or s-something."

Brendon sighed softly and fixed his posture on the couch. I put the tip of my pencil back to the canvas and went back into the sketch. My eyes kept going back in forth between Brendon and the sketch and I felt my eyes wanting to stay on Brendon instead of focusing on my work.

I set down my pencil for a brief second and walked over to the radio, turning it on and turning it to a rock station. The song that had just began was one that I knew well even though it had just came out. Bush echoed throughout the small studio and I set back on my stool and went back to working on my sketch of Brendon.

Soon, I wasn't only hearing the soft noise coming from the radio, but Brendon was also singing along, and I had to stop my work. I looked past the canvas and onto Brendon's face and how into the song he was getting. His voice trailed perfectly, just how the song called for and before I could comprehend how long I had been staring at him, the song ended and another one started that he knew by heart and that I couldn't get out of my mind since I heard him sing it that first time I'd seen him.

I picked up my pencil and went back to work on my sketch, a new idea coming to me. I finished the detail on Brendon before starting to create the idea I was having. I took my fingers and smudged off to the side of his right arm and his left leg making it look like he was fading off to those sides, like he was smoke. I picked up the pencil again and drew bars of music coming off of those parts of his body, filling them in with eighth notes, quarter notes and whole notes. The whole sketch made Brendon look like a musical enigma and I think it fit perfectly to the kind of person he was.

I set down my pencil and cleared my throat as I walked over to the radio and turned the volume dial down. Brendon raised his head to look at me and I shyly motioned to the canvas, looking down the floor as I blushed. I heard him scurry off of the couch and walk close to where I was standing, and I raised my eyes slightly, watching him sit himself on the stool I had previously been seated.

After a few moments, I looked up completely to see Brendon staring at my canvas with an unreadable yet very intense look on his face. I nervously walked closer to him, looking to his face and searching his brown eyes for whatever kind of emotion he could be feeling. His eyes then suddenly flickered to my face and I saw that they were filled with tears.

I furrowed my brows, about to question what was wrong before he removed himself from the stool and wrapped his arms around my neck, burying his face in my shoulder. I stood completely still for few moments, shocked by his actions before slowly wrapping my arms around his waist, letting him just hold onto me. I soon felt wetness against my shoulder and I knew he was crying so I pulled back and looked into his eyes with full blown concern.

"B-Brendon," I said softly, "why are you c-crying?"

He slowly shut his eyes before letting go of me and wiping his tears away as he turned his back to me, facing my sketch once again. It was silent for a few moments, only the soft hum of the radio filling the atmosphere before he turned back to me.

"Ryan--" he started, letting out what seemed to be a pathetic laugh before looking down at the ground. "Ryan, I've had pictures taken of me my entire life. I've looked into I-don't-know-how-many mirrors also, but I've never seen myself as attractive. I've never looked at myself and thought that I was a good looking person. But when I see the way you sketch me.." He trailed off and covered his mouth letting some more small tears escape his eyes before taking a breath and smiling sadly at me. "You make me look beautiful."

My cheeks flushed bright red at his words and I ducked my head, shuffling my feet slightly before looking back at him. "C-Can I tell you something I've learned?"

He nodded softly, brushing stray tear tracks off of his face as he walked past me and sat back on the couch, leaving room for me to sit next to him. I walked over slowly, sitting opposite of him, but close enough that I could see the redness surrounding his brown irises and the small sliver of light reflecting in them.

I let out a soft breath, shuffling my sitting position before finding the courage to speak. "You k-know by now that I l-love art more than a-anything," I stated and he nodded. "I realized that when I s-sketch something, it comes out l-looking almost exactly does in real life, off of p-paper. Do you k-know what that means?"

Brendon furrowed his brows, shaking his head softly. I smiled at him and looked back to the sketch, pointing at it. "Th-That means that the beauty you see in that, should a-also be the beauty you see in y-yourself, because it's the exact s-same thing."

More tears filled Brendon's eyes as he looked back toward the sketch then down to his hands. He let some more tears escape as he nodded at me, looking to me with a small smile.

I smiled back and stood off the couch, walking to the cupboard and grabbing a preserve tube. I went back to the canvas and signed my name at the bottom before gently removing the page, rolling it up and sliding it into the tube, capping it and holding it towards Brendon.

He walked over and took it from me with a small smile before wrapping his arms around me again. This time, I didn't hesitate to hug him back, smiling softly as my arms went around his waist. He pulled away after a few moments and we shared a smile before just looking at each other.

"I like l-looking at you," I whispered softly.

He quirked an eyebrow at me and laughed gently. "Is that so?"

I nodded, a corner of my mouth tilting upward as I let my hands rest against the small of his back.

"You're like a fire; igniting the deepest parts of my soul."

An Artist's Touch - [ryden AU] {COMPLETED ✔️} Read this story for FREE!