conan gray x reader (fem)

the truth

Your pov

"Okay. I'll tell you," I pulled my jacket across my chest, a cold breeze blowing my hair over my face.

Reluctantly, I told Conan about my abusive father, and screams, the belts, the cuts and bruises. Now that I was getting it out, I couldn't stop myself. I mean I needed somewhere to dump this.

I could feel myself blabbering, and not even noticing, hot tears dripped out of my eyes and ran down my face, taking my eyeliner with it. The silent tears turned to choky sobs, which I couldn't speak through. A hand landed on my shoulder and wrapped around me. Conan pulled me so my head was lying his lap. He stroked my hair and wiped the black stains from under my eyes, and I fiddled with his zipper while I cried.

"I'm sorry," I sat up and composed myself, wiping my sleeve across my face, leaving marks on the cuffs, "there's nothing you can do and it's not like you care."

"Look, I do care. And I'll help. You can stay with me until you're ready." I smiled through my tears.

"Really?" I questioned.

"Yep. Really. After what I heard this mornings and what I've seen you go through, there's no way I can let this happen."

The bell rang throughout the soccer courts, so we gathered ourselves and he walked me back to my locker. We had art next. Our final project for the term. Free work, no boundaries. Our choice of medium and subject. He'd been working on a massive pencil drawing that he made good work of hiding from me. Today I'd finally sneak a peek.

CONANS POV

I walked y/n back to her locker, grabbing her art folder. "You should probably grab your stuff too." She smiled at me as I walked off. How did she become so warm to me in so little time?

I sat down in the art studio, getting ready to move into the smaller room I usually worked in. Y/n sat next to me, and quickly grabbed my work, and before I could stop her, she'd flipped it and seen the drawing I'd been working on for the last couple weeks. It was her, sitting on my bed laughing, while holding a guitar. *wonder where that image originated*

She stared at it for a while, before looking back at me, mouth wide open. She liked it?

"How's you make me look so happy?" She asked me after a couple seconds of silence.

"Guess I'm good at what I do," I chuckled. "So you like it?" Really hoping for one answer here.

"Yes?! How is that even a question? This is incredible Conan!" I just smiled at her. "What's it called?"

"I think I'm gonna call it Comfort Crowd. Like when you don't wanna talk, but your around a person that just makes you feel better. Do weird stuff, laugh about nothing. I guess."

"Suits it. Want to go into the other room?" She asked me, picking up her things.

"Wait, I want to see your piece. I showed you mine," I probed. She took her paper out of the folder, showing a watercolour of me with glowing tears flowing down my face. 

"You get one too," She smiled shyly.

"Y/n, this is so good. But one thing."

"What?"

"You made me too pretty," I said, walking into the studio smirking.