The Heartbroken - S01 E93

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E93

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 93

“What mess?” he said,

rolling his eyes. “It’s

basically spotless in

here.”

Clearly, he was blind.

Can he even sketch me

with those eyes of his?

I doubted it. He asked

for some paper and

pens before settling on

a spot on the floor. I

set his share of the

nachos in front of him

and awkwardly looked

around my room.

“Should I, um, do I have

to pose? Or something.”

“Nah. Make yourself

busy,” he said. “Watch

some movies or

something. I prefer

drawing a candid

portrait.”

“Um. Okay.”

Deciding to watch a

movie on my laptop, I

sat on the floor too, a

few feet away from

him, on a spot that

wasn’t directly across

him, feeling awkward

about the whole thing

as I propped the laptop

on my makeshift pillow

table (not my best idea,

but meh).

I half-expected him to

draw a stick figure or a

pig or something and

call it done in a less than

a minute. Knowing him,

it would probably be the

only reason he agreed

to the whole thing.

I ended up choosing

Tangled among the

downloaded movies on

my laptop. As the

minutes stretched with

silence (well, other than

the old hag singing to

the flower), it was clear

he was actually serious

about drawing me. I

peered at him curiously.

He was looking down at

the paper on his lap. He

was sitting cross-

legged, using a clipboard

he found on my study

table to support the

paper. His brows were

furrowed ever so

slightly, completely

focused on the drawing.

Every so often, he

would brush his hair

away from his eyes,

seemingly irritated.

I hadn’t even realized I

was staring until he

looked up from the

drawing and caught me.

“What?” he said.

Quickly looking away, I

didn’t bother replying.

If there was one thing I

learned from thirty

minutes of trying to

watch a movie as Seth

drew me, it was: This is

impossible. I could

barely understand what

was happening in the

movie (considering I’d

watched Tangled quite

a few times before,

that was saying a lot). I

could feel him staring at

me, watching me for a

short while before

looking down at his

drawing. I forced

myself to sit still, but it

was impossible not to

fidget uncomfortably.

Not that he asked me

to stay still or anything,

but it felt like I should

be staying still.

But staying still

knowing that the

possibly psychotic guy

who’s been sniffing me

all weekend was

staring at me was

really, really difficult.

“If you could just stop

looking constipated,

that would be really

good,” he said.

I glared at him.

“Yeah, looking like the

devil is so much better

than the whole

constipated look you

had going on. You really

have a future in posing

for portraits.”

“This isn’t exactly

comfortable,” I

muttered darkly,

turning back to the

screen to watch

Rapunzel with her frying

pan. Now that I think

about it, our frying pan

downstairs looks a lot

like the one she had

with her. I fought the

urge to make a quick

trip downstairs to grab

it and hit Seth with it.

“Oh, great. Now you

look like a psycho-killer.

Wow, Kyla, this look

really suits you.”

“If you don’t shut up

now, I won’t just look

like a psycho-killer,” I

warned him.

“Just relax,” he said. “Go

to your happy place.

Think of rainbows and

unicorns and shit.”