@WriteOutofTime
(Bye!)
Thorn smiled, "Will I get to see it?"
"Of course," Lana replied. "Actually, you can keep it if you want. I usually hate my art after the creativity wears off."
(Bye!)
Thorn smiled, "Will I get to see it?"
"Of course," Lana replied. "Actually, you can keep it if you want. I usually hate my art after the creativity wears off."
Thorn looked at her, "Really? That's weird. I mean wouldn't want to keep something you create?"
"I don't know. The more I look at it, the more I can't stand it. I see all the flaws in it and I think of all the ways I could've improved it. I look at it and see what it could have been, and it makes me hate it." Lana gazed down at the artwork in her hands.
Thorn looked down, "Oh. Is that what being an artist is like? You create a masterpiece, and then find all the flaws? Nothing is going to be flawless. People certainly aren't.
Lana nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's just frustrating to see something beautiful and breathtaking and when it's on the page it just loses some of its essence. Try as I might, I've never done anything I've drawn any justice."
Thorn stood up and walked over, "I'm sure you have at some point. Can I see it?"
"Sure." Lana held out the drawing, shrugging. "Sorry. It's not the best." She could feel herself slowly easing down from her high and it was not the best sensation in the world.
"What are you talking about? It looks amazing!" Thorn's eyes were shining as she looked at the drawing.
(I actually have a picture of the drawing but google docs is being stupid so we'll just have to use our imagination lol)
"You really think so?" Lana smiled, her cheeks warming. "I'm glad you like it."
(Lol)
Thorn nodded her own cheeks heated up, "It really does! I've never had myself drawn, and this looks great!"
"Th-thanks." Lana glanced at the ceiling. "Do you –do you want to keep it? You don't have to or anything."
"Holy crap, Ax, please don't tell me you're going to run me into a wall." Luka covered his face, hair whipping into his eyes. "Don't strain yourself, darlin'." He yawned and closed his eyes, "Just don't do anything too stup-" He went limp in the seat.
"I won't. At least, not yet." Axel answered quickly, still limping through the halls with Luka in his wheelchair. The nurse continued to scream his name through the halls, but it was no use. After narrowly missing a wall and a desk, Axel finally led the wheelchair to an empty waiting room.
"Axel, I have to ask," Luka woke up, sweat on his forehead, "is your life usually this exciting?" He got up from the wheelchair, taking a seat in one of the benches in the waiting room. He motioned for Axel to sit back down.
Thorn looked at Lana, "Of course I want to keep it! Why wouldn't I?!"
"I don't know! I thought you were just saying you liked it to be nice," she admitted with an ashamed grin. "You aren't, are you?"
"Of course not!" Thorn looked slightly offended. But not overly, "I really do like it."
"Okay, okay, I believe you," Lana said with a smile. "Thanks for letting me draw you."
Thorn smiled back, "Anytime Lana. It was fun."
"Aww, thanks." Lana glanced around the room. "What time is it, anyway? It's hard to tell with no windows."
Thorn shrugged, "Probably not too late. The nurses would come in if it was."
"Okay, good. I would honestly rather stay in here for now anyways." Lana smiled sweetly.
Thorn's face got red. Because of her paleness it was quite obvious, "That's nice. Any ideas on what to do?"
"I don't know. My only talent is art so I've got nothing else to showcase." Lana laughed. "Your turn."
Thorn thought for a second, "And my only talent is gardening. So I've got nothing."
"Axel, I have to ask," Luka woke up, sweat on his forehead, "is your life usually this exciting?" He got up from the wheelchair, taking a seat in one of the benches in the waiting room. He motioned for Axel to sit back down.
"Yes, periodically." Axel sighed, sitting back down in his wheelchair and stretching his legs out. Just walking on his prosthetic had drained him. "And is your life usually exciting?" He asked, his fingers tapping on the wheels of his chair.
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