Andrew Graves Fanart 소설 & 이야기

And now, he'd never get the chance to make things right. So he moved into a small house beside the cemetery and became a grave keeper. It was his new job and the only thing he cared to do. Jayden planted sunflowers, row after row, in the yard. Every morning, he'd bring a fresh bunch to my grave. Then he'd sit beside the stone and talk to me, keeping me company as the sun rose and set, as clouds rolled in and drifted away. He missed me desperately. But I never appeared in his dreams. Not even in sleep could he see me again.

"If you tell me about that four o'clock thing again I'm gonna lose my shit. That's a human being, that's a manmade device that keeps track of time. This kid has to go to bed hungry because that says so?" She thought it over and came to the right conclusion, which was good for her and all concerned because I was seriously contemplating going back there and doing the shit myself. "I'll get him his Mac and cheese even if I have to do it myself. It might take a minute..." "We'll wait." Andrew was busy painting away, I guess he thought he was Picasso or some shit. He was handing out drawings to all the women the little shit, and flirting with my wife.

"Let's clear something up, because your little ego is getting embarrassing. You think I like you? You think I would actually pick you over the tons of girls throwing themselves at me in my DMs every single day? Because of what—a kiss we had like, what, twice?" He let out a short, mocking breath, his eyes scanning my face with absolute disdain. "I am Noah Wystan Graves, might I remind you. The star hockey player. The guy who can have literally anyone he wants with a single look. And you honestly sat there and convinced yourself that a couple of meaningless, repetitive mistakes meant you actually held some kind of power over me?"

"Quick bring the jack and the stretcher!!!" Bringing himself out of his thoughts, he wiped the tears in his eyes, Andre stared at him knowing very well that he was thinking about his parents, he did nothing but have a faint smile for the helpless lad. There was a disturbing silence until Etienne spoke: "Andy (Andre for short) let’s do it, let’s go to Sandton"...

"Sorry. I was sketching earlier. I thought it was a stunning scene, so I drew it out on canvas." His painting was vivid and lifelike. In just a few strokes of his brush, he had outlined the entire coffee shop, the people walking by, and my dazed expression as I stared out the window. I couldn't help but say admiringly, "You're a fantastic artist." He smiled and set his brush down on his palette, then stretched his hand out toward me. "My name is Andrew. Andrew Fernandez." I reached out as well and shook his hand gently, my palm brushing against the calluses on his fingertips. "I'm Darcy Cowell."

“Boss!” “B-Boss, how can you pair Graves and me together? You know we never get along, boss,” Thorne said, almost pouting. He was tall, with a deep knife scar slashing across his face, but right now he looked more like a sulking child pleading with his father. “Yes, boss. Rex and I will do a much better job, I swear,” Graves cut in quickly, his tone eager. He stood as tall as Thorne, but his face was smooth and clean-cut, the complete opposite of his arms, which were covered in ink.

I was not overly impressed or stimulated and it showed on my face. Andrew then approached me with a warm grin and a certain swagger in his step. He was dressed in a dark suit, white button-up shirt, and black vest. The vest was unbuttoned. The shirt was only buttoned halfway and he wasn't wearing a tie. The look worked on him and gave him a devil-may-care look. He greeted me and asked if I was just browsing, had a few pieces in the exhibit, or if I was looking to buy. I shrugged sadly and pointed out my girlfriend, as I explained, "My girlfriend has a few pieces that she wants to exhibit next time. She's hoping to impress the director and a few other people. So I'm just exploring while she w