'Does he like me?'

Ignoring my brain for once, I smile and go to mix the color to make this shade of white. The lighting in here is better than in my room, so I could see the feather had a creamy tint to it. Mixing to colors, I begin to paint him. I realized I grabbed too many colors I decided to add some flowers and thorns. I started with the face. His skin was a milky pale color but wasn't totally white, so I used a tan color as a shading color. The paint was smooth against the canvas. I snuck little glances at him trying to get a good expression that wasn't to noticeable. I snuck another glance at him. He had a calm expression on his face, his lips in a small frown. He must have noticed me staring because he looked at me, but his expression didn't change. Perfect!

I look back at the canvas continuing to paint. He had a really beautiful face that I could stare at for hours. His eyes were like green forests. His frekles were like constellations. Letting my mind and hands take over, I realize I'm focusing more on Midoriya and not the painting itself. Signing my name at the bottom of the canvas. I look at it all completed.

   I'm not usually one to brag, but this is one of the best paintings I've ever done

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I'm not usually one to brag, but this is one of the best paintings I've ever done. looking back at him, I speak for the first in a couple hours. "I finished the painting." I say sheepishly, looking down at my feet, that were rested on the legs my wooden stool. He stood up from the chair, streching his arms and letting his wings go back to rest on his back. Walking over to me he looks at the canvas in awe. "It's wet right now, but I'm taking it back to my room with me. Dad has less of a chance finding it there." Looking back at him, I find myself smiling at his face. He looks shocked and in awe still. Taking a brush I used for one of the blue flowers I swipe it across his nose breaking him from his trance. He gasps taking a brush with a bit of black paint and smearing it against my cheek. He then grabs a small handful of brushes and starts to run around the room. Grabbing the other 6 brushes from the cup, I start to chase him. Swinging the brush in the air, a few splatters of paint hit him on his half bare back, the other hitting the white silky cloth wrapped loosely around his torso. He turns to look at me, before taking a large brush with lavender paint and swiping it against my arm and then my face. I start my chase again as I pin him to the wall. Taking a small brush with a pinkish red, I brush it against his cheeks. "Now you look like you're always blushing!" I exclaim, taking another brush I used for the gold cuff and start to connect the dots of freckles. He looks up at me with innocent eyes. "What are you doing? It tickles!" he giggles slightly. Smiling, I reply. "I'm connecting your freckles. They look like small constellations." Blushing even harder, I stop and look at his face again.

Looking at his face, I couldn't help but blush. I stared at him while he stared at me and I almost leaned in. I was so close to kissing him. But before I, he winced and fell to the ground. Getting on the ground to his face level. He had passed out and I was hoping he was okay. Taking the flowercrown off of his tangle of hair, removing the cuff from his arm and untying the piece of cloth around his torso, I pick him up bridal style and carry his unconscious body to my room. Setting him down on the bed, I put him in a large grey shirt. Then I take a small blanket and cover his pale body. He snuggled farther into the plush pillow I had on the side of my bed that I use to hug while I sleep. I press my lips to his forehead for a moment before going back down to the art room to grab the painting I worked on.

But my dad beat me to the room. Taking the painting in his hands, I stare at him from the doorway. "What is this?" He questions, his voice like venom. "Just a painting I made today..." "If it's 'just a painting' then why does your maid have wings?" he questions. "He doesn't." I try to lie through my teeth obviously failing. "I just thought it was a cool concept." I state coldly. "Sure. You can lie all you want but I see right through you. If he does have wings, he's completely useless to us. He will die before he gets the chance to serve us like the prisoner he is." "He isn't a prisoner to me so shut your god damn mouth" I say spitting his vemonus tone right back at him. "What is he to you then? Your friend? Pathetic. Exactly what I would expect from you." before I could stop him any further, he takes the semi wet painting and smashes it to the ground. The canvas ripped and the wood on the back snapped in half. He walked by me, bumping his shoulder into mine before speaking. "Clean this mess up. If I see another useless painting, I'm going to collect all of your paint. You won't touch another canvas for as long as I live." Walking over to the ruined canvas I throw it into the trash can that's by the door. Ignoring what my dad said, I grabbed a smaller canvas and the colors I had from earlier to paint him. Grabbing some more greys to match the blankets in my room, I exit and walk up the stairs back to my room.

Midoriya was still sleeping, but his position changed slightly. He was now on his back, one of his arms now rested over his stomach. He looked peaceful. I sat on one side of my bed, setting up the canvas, trying to make as little noise as possible. I started painting, the thoughts now coming back but I focused more on the brush and the canvas instead of my booming thoughts. I finished rather quickly, because I didn't have to mix the colors.

   Letting the paint dry, I sat it in my walk in closet

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Letting the paint dry, I sat it in my walk in closet. My dad definitely wouldn't look in there while it dried, and I would put it in a more secure place once it was completely dry. As much as I wanted to glide into bed next to him, I decided I should take him to his room. I didn't know what he wanted and I need to respect him as a person. Picking him up, I carried him off to his room to set him back down on his bed. It was only 2:38 and we both haven't eaten. Leaving a note on his door, I go back to my room. Thinking about what happened today I'm sure of one thing.











I love him. And he will die because or it...

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