Y/N took the thin and slender paintbrush and dipped it onto one of the colours that was on her pallette.
Out of all those colours, she took the red one.
Y/N was a girl who is very dense, very oblivious about her surroundings, she cares less or even zero to the people around her unless they were to befriend her.
Y/N was one of the professional painters.
She grew to like the deep shades of luscious red, the light tints of carnation pink, the gentle and calm pastels of blue, the hopeful hues of fresh green.
She spent most of her life locked on her own house, learning how to paint like a professional, learning how to paint god-like, how god managed to mix all the colours that filled the world with so much entertainment for the human eyes.
For her 15 years of living she only learned a few. Her parents wanted her to learn how to socialize with people around her, they want to see her emotions plastered on her face.
She thinks she's just starting to learn, but the way her eyes would dart and gaze to people with so much pride and dignity, people grew to know her as the emotionless girl, who'd look down at people below her with those E/C orbs of a girl who had a great big wall of isolation between her and the other people.
She cares about nothing but her paintings.
But even though she was called as the emotionless painter, she also feels emotions, but she finds it hard to express it physically.
People would say her beauty was also an art, yet she would describe herself as a colour separated from the rainbow; gray.
She wasn't depressed, she wasn't sad, she was lonely.
Art should be contained with all the emotions possible for a human being to feel, an artist needs to be filled with emotions too. Yes, her art filled more than a thousand emotions that the heart would feel, yet she, the artist, can't express any to beings like her.
Right in the middle of her painting, she heard the classroom door creak. However, she wasn't distracted, she continued to paint with her main colour.
The tall tanned skin boy with spiky hair, colored in a dark shade of red walked towards her with both his hands on his pockets.
"Hey, L/N." Kirishima called out to her in a cheery voice as he rested both his hands on Y/N's shoulder.
"Don't touch me." She said in her monotone voice as she brushed his hand off.
Kirishima chuckled as he patted her head instead.
"Ahaha okay, okay."
He took one more stool and sat beside Y/N, his eyes widening and his mouth forming an 'o', mesmerized and captivated by the wonderful art his friend had painted.
It was a painting of Y/N on her back, reaching for something that's color red. Actually, the whole background was a mixture of red, orange, and yellow. And in the center of it, there seems to be a shadow of a man standing.
In confusion, Kirishima's brows crashed as his mouth opened, "L/N, who is that man standing?"
Unfortunately Y/N just shrugged and continued on adding more highlights to her painting.
"L/N?" Kirishima called out and Y/N hummed in reply.
"Does your painting have a meaning?" He asked once again, full of curiosity.
She hummed back as she took another slim brush and dipped it onto the white poster paint.
For her to be painting with just poster paints, its so amazing of her.
Kirishima thought.
It takes some oil pastels or acrylic paint or some other paints to even make a work of art.
"Why is it filled with color red?" Kirishima asked once again.
She finished signing her painting and turned her head to him.
"I want to be with the colour I like, someday." She replied, still with that expressionless face and monotone voice.
Kirishima sat frozen, not knowing how to respond with the weird reply of his friend.
She left her canvas there and started putting all her painting materials back in her bag.
"Is color red your favorite colour?" He asked one last time.
She just glanced at him then exited the classroom.
As I said, she may be dense, but she knows who is the person she admires the most.