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It was on days like these that you found yourself at peace. You were relaxed at the time as the soft breeze passed by. You quietly began to draw soft lines on a page of your sketchbook, slowly creating an image as more time passed. After moments of continuous drawing, you managed to make a portrait of someone. You smiled at the picture and after a while you realized you were blushing. You shyly hid your face against your sketchbook.

“What are you drawing, chica?” Your eyes widened as you straightened up and slammed your sketchbook close in a split second.

“A-A-Antonio?!”

“That’s me,” he replied with a smile.

“Wh-What are you doing here, Antonio?” you asked tried to cover your blush with your now closed sketchbook.

“I was curious about your drawing. What did you draw?” he asked happily as he reached out to the sketchbook in hopes of seeing your drawings. You quickly moved the book to your side, keeping Antonio from getting it.

“S-Sorry, Antonio, you can’t see them,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Uh… I, um, personal reasons?” you replied in soft voice. He frowned.

“I don’t get it, (Name). What does personal reasons have to do with me seeing your drawings?” he asked as he tried to reach out the sketchbook again and you moved it away again.

“My reasons are classified!” you quickly said as hastily place the book and drawing utensils in your bag and quickly went, leaving the Spaniard confused.

~~~

You found yourself sitting against the trunk of a tree as you continued sketching a picture of the Spaniard. You didn’t know why, but you liked drawing him the most and it was almost the only thing you drew nowadays. You refused to those drawings to anyone for you were too embarrassed to show it.

You wished Antonio would stop being so interested in your drawings. You wanted to just draw him secretly, but Antonio would keep bugging you about your drawings whenever he saw you in the hallways or at the end of class. You just wanted it stop.

“Are you drawing someone?” you heard the Spaniard’s voice. You nearly jumped as you slammed your sketchbook close.

“Antonio, stop that!” you shouted at him as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“Chica, there’s nothing wrong with a little curiosity and a peek at your art,” you heard him say, clearly ignoring what you just told him.

“I told you, Antonio, I’m not showing it to you because I was told not to!” you told him.

“I thought you said it was for personal reasons.”

“Yeah, that!” After that, the two of you stared into each others’ eyes, not sure what to say next. You began to notice how unhappy he looked.

“(Name),” he began with a serious tone, “have you been avoiding me lately?”

“…What, no!” you replied after a second of pausing.

“Is that really the truth? I mean, you haven’t really been hanging out with me, but you would talk casually with Gil and Francis,” you heard him say… was that a hint of jealousy in his voice?

“T-That’s not true, Antonio! You’re my best friend, so you can’t such things. It’s probably just me being busy,” you lied, trying to force a smile on your face. His brows knotted together as if he was wondering if what you said was true or not. “Really!” you insisted.

“If you say so…”

You didn’t know what to say after you saw the dejected look in his eyes.

~~~

You sat in front of large paper canvas in the art classroom long after class was over. You sighed as you got up and walked over to the window, placing a hand on the glass as you stared out at the soccer. You easily found Antonio running after the ball like the other soccer players.

The longer you stared, the more you found that you were unable to think about anything but Antonio and it made you somewhat frustrated that the only thing you could possible draw now was him, but by now, you no longer cared what you were drawing and began sketching of the Spaniard.

As you drew, you paid close attention to everything. You paid attention to the soft twinkle in his eyes whenever he smiled. You made sure to pay attention the way you drew his smile. You made sure that you added in the soft glow of his skin as he ran under the afternoon sunlight. The position of his arms were just as important and you didn’t slack in drawing in those small details that made the Antonio who he was.

To others, you would seem almost crazy and obsessed over such details, but that didn’t matter. To you, making sure everything was perfect made you extremely happy. Antonio was special to you and if it meant that your drawing meant more to you than just a pretty picture, it was okay for you to be overjoyed.

You knew that each picture had a thousands words and even more to say. A drawing or sketch was more than just lines on a paper. It each one had a meaning and you were the one that knew what each picture you drew meant more than anyone else. They were treasures you were sure to keep as the years and to you, it was worth more than gold or diamonds even.

As you thought over these things, your pencil had quietly dropped to the tiled floor as you placed a hand on the pencil drawing. Your hands went over the lines of his cheeks and slowly trailed down to his hand. You didn’t notice that there were tears sliding down your cheek until you heard the soft plop that echoed throughout the room.

“(Name)?” You looked to your right and saw Antonio standing in the doorway, his hand kept on the wooden surface.

“A-Antonio?”

“I thought you were crying when I looked up into the art room. Ah, you really are crying. What happened, (Name)?” he asked as he approached you, a hand reaching out to you.

“No, don’t get any closer!” As the Spaniard got closer, he got a look at what you were drawing. His hand lowered as he examined your painting.

“…Is this… me?” he asked slowly.

“I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have drawn you without your permission,” you hastily said as you directed your eyes to the floor, not caring whether your tears were still flowing or not. Antonio walked over to you, causing you to back up near the window. He pulled the curtain over the window and kissed you, pushing against the cloth. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss and after a while, he pulled a back to glance into your eyes before capturing your lips once more. After a long while, he pulled back.

“Antonio?”

“I don’t mind if you continue drawing me,” he stated as he placed his forehead against yours.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie because I love you, chica,” he whispered softly.

“I… I love you too,” you said back.

Te amo, (Name).