Post by Draco Malfoy on Jan 10, 2014 21:11:48 GMT -5
how long had it been since he'd left the house? since he'd bothered to leave his room? the dark green walls and macassar ebony furniture had grown all too familiar. for nearly a month, it was all he'd seen. why had he chosen such dreary colors? of course, they'd probably not been fully his choice. probably his parents persuading him when he was young and worshiped everything pureblood and slytherin related. now, everything was too dark, even with the curtains --also black-- completely drawn and every light and candle available lit. rather than focus on the inside of his room, though, draco had become more and more focused on the outside as the long days and hours passed. nothing much changed out there, but at least it was brighter out there. their garden was just as elegant as he'd remembered it, white roses and wrought-iron benches. draco turned to a new page in the almost empty book before him. he had nothing much more than pencil and charcoal, but he didn't see the need for color in his work. black and white and gray, they got the point across fine. his hand moved quickly as he sketched the trees and the paths, shaded the bellies of the clouds that rumbled with rain. the simple things in art didn't take him too long, outlines and shades, those would take ten minutes most. but with the paper full of what he wanted to capture on paper, now he had to make it real, put in every tiny intricate detail he possibly could. the pale hand slowed, the pencil's sound scratchier rather the the smooth feathery sound it had made mere moments before. the darkening of the benches, the tiny roses in between the gate's bars. slowly but surely, draco worked them all in. he worked in silence, with no way to measure of how much time had passed. the candle on his desk was at least half the length it had been when he'd started, the sky darker. a yawn escaped his thin lips, and draco reached to rub at his eyes, stopping mid-motion as he noticed the black graphite stuck to the side of his palm. with a shake of his head, he went back to finish the last few details of his drawing, adding the figure of a while owl he'd just seen fly across the distance. his stomach rumbled, and draco knew it must be near dinner time. with a flick of his hand, he sent a note flying to the house elves, letting them know that he would take his supper now. he paid no mind to the soft footsteps he heard moments later, assuming that his dinner was on it's way already. he didn't have to hide his art from the elves, they knew not to tell any one of what he did in his room, or anywhere else in the house for that matter. thanks to them, his secret was safe from those who would possibly ridicule him for it, namely his father. | i remember when i remember i remember when i lost my mind there was something so pleasant about that place even your emotions had an echo in so much space and when you're out there without care yeah i was out of touch but it wasn't because i didn't know enough i just knew too much does that make me crazy? probably. and i hope that you're having the time of your life but think twice, that's my only advice. come on now who do you who do you who do you think you are ha ha ha bless your soul you really think you're in control well i think you're crazy just like me. maybe we're crazy. |
deltra of gangnam style