... I wrote this late at night? I'm in a weird state of mind at night... And... I drank lots of coca cola so i'm on a bit of a sugar high.... I don't know. Sorry for showing such... horribly-written... stuff to you. I just warn you that... I'm horrible at this. Just Read it and flame me. >.<
Title: An Empty Canvas
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: K+
Word Count: 996
Pairing: Sora x Kairi
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I hate this…
Sora was looking at an empty canvas. It was art class, last period. As usual, there wasn’t an assignment. The teacher always said that us students should paint anything we want. It was supposed to be “supportive” and it put less “bindings” on our imagination and creativity. She was a nice person, but when it came to art, it felt like she was spewing hot sauce from her mouth. It was now that Sora realized, that he wasn’t good with word choice or metaphors.
Darn it…
So now, here he was, trying to figure out a better metaphor than “spewing hot sauce” because he just didn’t want to paint anything. It was stupid really, but that’s how he felt. His thoughts drifted, drifted into a place he didn’t want to go to.
She loved painting…
Now Sora felt empty. Emptier than the canvas he was currently staring at. Sora was dimly aware that some paint was dripping onto the floor.
“Sora? You haven’t painted anything yet. And you’re dripping some paint on the floor…”
Sora couldn’t hear his teacher. She was like a whisper in the background now, for he was in a beautiful place. Was he dreaming? He probably nodded off in class, again. Sora liked it better this way; reality was too cruel. There was somebody else there too; somebody that he only saw in dreams.
A dream of you… in a world without you…
They were lying down on the beach. One hand was in her hair, the other over her waist. He missed her. How long had it been? It was a few hours since he dreamed, a few hours away from her. That’s why he slept so much now. People would tell him he was lazy, that he would rather sleep than work or hang out. They were right.
“Sora?” He loved her voice.
“Yeah?” Sora lifted his head a bit so that he could look into her eyes. “Is there something wrong?” She shook her head.
“No” She kissed him. Sora kissed back, making sure that he put as much emotion into the kiss as he could. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, how much he missed her. It was so long; so long since he actually kissed her, actually held her, actually felt her against him. Reality was cruel.
“I never want this to end…”
“Sora!”
“Huh?” Sora opened his eyes. He was staring at the empty canvas again. Now he felt empty again. Who was it that woke him up? Sora looked up to find the answer. “Oh, sorry teach.”
She was looking at him. Sora couldn’t tell what her expression was; he was too locked up in his previous dream. How he wished that he could go back again…
“Sora, do you need some help?”
“No… I just don’t know what I want to paint.” Sora lied. He didn’t want to paint at all. He didn’t want to think about her, he wanted to be with her. To just be around to see her smile, to hear her giggle, to—
“How about,” his teacher said, “If you paint…” She leaned into his ear and whispered. His eyes widened. Did she know that he lied? When Sora met his teacher’s eyes, he saw her wink at him before returning to help her other students. Sora looked back at his canvas.
He was at a loss for words, really. He didn’t want to paint. He didn’t. What if he messed up? What if… what if…
I don’t want to feel empty anymore. I don’t want to feel as empty as an unpainted canvas.
So Sora painted.
It first started with red. Then he added pink, some black, and then blue. He kept adding colors to his painting. As he did, the canvas felt less empty, and so did he… but only by a little. When Sora was done he stared hard at the painting. It still felt incomplete. But how? He managed to show most of her beauty in paint, so what now?
Sora got it.
That’s all he painted. Her. He felt alone, so why should she? He wanted to make her happy, to show her she was not alone. Even if it was a painting, it was more real to him than any dream. It was here and now. He painted this, and now that it was real, he had to make sure that it would end up the best thing that his hands would ever partake in.
Black. Sora added blue. There was red too. A bit of yellow here. There had to be some brown there. More colors were added. Some colors weren’t even in his vocabulary, but that didn’t stop him. Sora smiled. He was done.
Kairi…
She was on the beach. She was lying down and looking peaceful. Sora was next to her, hand in hers. They each had smiles on their faces. It was just like his dream. But, it was real, wasn’t it? It was stupid really; a painting being more real than a dream? Just because it was there, and a dream couldn’t? Sora didn’t care.
“I see you’re done.” Sora’s art teacher suddenly came from beneath the shadows. How did she do that?
“Yeah,” Sora said with a grin on his face, “I think it’s great.” His teacher smiled at him.
“I told you. Now go, class was dismissed a few minutes ago.” Sora blushed. He didn’t know class was over. Now he felt like an idiot. He carefully rolled the paper he painted on, grabbed his backpack and left.
The canvas was empty again. However, Sora didn’t feel empty at all. He wasn’t sure how long this feeling would last, but he knew for sure that it was real. As real as his dreams. As real as his love for Kairi. He was no longer an empty canvas.
Why don’t you paint someone you love? Someone, who isn’t with us anymore…
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The last line was what Sora's art teacher whispered to him, BTW. Other than that... Sorry? I'm pretty sure you're gouging(sp?) your eyes by now. And, yeah, Kairi's dead. Gomen. Don't ask how she died... I don't know. XD
Title: An Empty Canvas
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: K+
Word Count: 996
Pairing: Sora x Kairi
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I hate this…
Sora was looking at an empty canvas. It was art class, last period. As usual, there wasn’t an assignment. The teacher always said that us students should paint anything we want. It was supposed to be “supportive” and it put less “bindings” on our imagination and creativity. She was a nice person, but when it came to art, it felt like she was spewing hot sauce from her mouth. It was now that Sora realized, that he wasn’t good with word choice or metaphors.
Darn it…
So now, here he was, trying to figure out a better metaphor than “spewing hot sauce” because he just didn’t want to paint anything. It was stupid really, but that’s how he felt. His thoughts drifted, drifted into a place he didn’t want to go to.
She loved painting…
Now Sora felt empty. Emptier than the canvas he was currently staring at. Sora was dimly aware that some paint was dripping onto the floor.
“Sora? You haven’t painted anything yet. And you’re dripping some paint on the floor…”
Sora couldn’t hear his teacher. She was like a whisper in the background now, for he was in a beautiful place. Was he dreaming? He probably nodded off in class, again. Sora liked it better this way; reality was too cruel. There was somebody else there too; somebody that he only saw in dreams.
A dream of you… in a world without you…
They were lying down on the beach. One hand was in her hair, the other over her waist. He missed her. How long had it been? It was a few hours since he dreamed, a few hours away from her. That’s why he slept so much now. People would tell him he was lazy, that he would rather sleep than work or hang out. They were right.
“Sora?” He loved her voice.
“Yeah?” Sora lifted his head a bit so that he could look into her eyes. “Is there something wrong?” She shook her head.
“No” She kissed him. Sora kissed back, making sure that he put as much emotion into the kiss as he could. He wanted her to know how much he loved her, how much he missed her. It was so long; so long since he actually kissed her, actually held her, actually felt her against him. Reality was cruel.
“I never want this to end…”
“Sora!”
“Huh?” Sora opened his eyes. He was staring at the empty canvas again. Now he felt empty again. Who was it that woke him up? Sora looked up to find the answer. “Oh, sorry teach.”
She was looking at him. Sora couldn’t tell what her expression was; he was too locked up in his previous dream. How he wished that he could go back again…
“Sora, do you need some help?”
“No… I just don’t know what I want to paint.” Sora lied. He didn’t want to paint at all. He didn’t want to think about her, he wanted to be with her. To just be around to see her smile, to hear her giggle, to—
“How about,” his teacher said, “If you paint…” She leaned into his ear and whispered. His eyes widened. Did she know that he lied? When Sora met his teacher’s eyes, he saw her wink at him before returning to help her other students. Sora looked back at his canvas.
He was at a loss for words, really. He didn’t want to paint. He didn’t. What if he messed up? What if… what if…
I don’t want to feel empty anymore. I don’t want to feel as empty as an unpainted canvas.
So Sora painted.
It first started with red. Then he added pink, some black, and then blue. He kept adding colors to his painting. As he did, the canvas felt less empty, and so did he… but only by a little. When Sora was done he stared hard at the painting. It still felt incomplete. But how? He managed to show most of her beauty in paint, so what now?
Sora got it.
That’s all he painted. Her. He felt alone, so why should she? He wanted to make her happy, to show her she was not alone. Even if it was a painting, it was more real to him than any dream. It was here and now. He painted this, and now that it was real, he had to make sure that it would end up the best thing that his hands would ever partake in.
Black. Sora added blue. There was red too. A bit of yellow here. There had to be some brown there. More colors were added. Some colors weren’t even in his vocabulary, but that didn’t stop him. Sora smiled. He was done.
Kairi…
She was on the beach. She was lying down and looking peaceful. Sora was next to her, hand in hers. They each had smiles on their faces. It was just like his dream. But, it was real, wasn’t it? It was stupid really; a painting being more real than a dream? Just because it was there, and a dream couldn’t? Sora didn’t care.
“I see you’re done.” Sora’s art teacher suddenly came from beneath the shadows. How did she do that?
“Yeah,” Sora said with a grin on his face, “I think it’s great.” His teacher smiled at him.
“I told you. Now go, class was dismissed a few minutes ago.” Sora blushed. He didn’t know class was over. Now he felt like an idiot. He carefully rolled the paper he painted on, grabbed his backpack and left.
The canvas was empty again. However, Sora didn’t feel empty at all. He wasn’t sure how long this feeling would last, but he knew for sure that it was real. As real as his dreams. As real as his love for Kairi. He was no longer an empty canvas.
Why don’t you paint someone you love? Someone, who isn’t with us anymore…
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The last line was what Sora's art teacher whispered to him, BTW. Other than that... Sorry? I'm pretty sure you're gouging(sp?) your eyes by now. And, yeah, Kairi's dead. Gomen. Don't ask how she died... I don't know. XD