Andrew Graves Fanart Novels & Stories

"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?"

ETHAN POV I growl under my breath as Miranda tenses and practically curls against my side in fear. The wolves challenging Andrew are covered in tattoos, but not the art I am used to seeing. The images printed on their flesh are meant to install fear. The poor excuses for artwork depict women being violated and men being tortured or killed. Two of them have their hit list tattooed on their chest. "Alpha King, thank you for taking the time to come to the South pack," Andrew says interrupting my thoughts as I approach him in the field they have chosen to fight in.

Andrew wanted to eat, but he sensed that Elliot was staring at him, so he said in embarrassment, "Mr. Elliot, have some food." Elliot replied, "I'm not hungry, you eat!" Avery smiled and said to Andrew, "Have a taste! The crab doesn't have a shell, so you don't need to crack the shell. This is the gravy. You can dip it in if you want. If you like it hot, you can also get the waiter to add some hot sauce to it." Avery passed the gravy to Andrew. "Mrs. Avery, I'm fine with whichever. I'll help myself." Andrew accepted the gravy, took a small piece of crab, and dipped it in the gravy before putting it into his mouth.

“You wish.” I looked at his canvas. “Can I see what you drew?” He turned it to face me and I smiled. It was a realistic painting of a dog. “That's my dog, Rue. She died a year ago and I thought it was best that I used her for my art competition and showed her to the world.” “That is lovely. I'm sure wherever Rue is she will be excited she was your muse.” Andrew smiled. He kept the canvas aside and sat near me. He showed me his number tag. “I'm number ten, right before you.”

Kraven says. Kraven walks back up front. We save one spot in the front for visiting artists or other promotional events. I look up when the bell above the door goes off. I smile when I see Teagan walking in. He is a werebear and has been coming to me for a year. This is the fourth piece that I have done. He peels his shirt off and lays down on my chair. “Damn, now that is a back piece.” Andre whistles.

"Andre, oh I missed you so much…you didn’t mention to us that you were back in town, how’s the residency going at Edenvale Gen?" "I know right it’s been so long…the residency is going well, I was thinking of just staying in the emergency unit, but I know my heart is with pathology. I’m actually here because I heard what happened to mom…I just wish I was there for her, and how are you doing?” "I'm fine Andre ‘sobbing’ I just hope she’s going to be okay...she can't leave me, leave us like this".

"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."

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