Cuddle Drawings Novels & Stories

Nothing pulls me out of a weird mood faster than doodling. As we go through the scene for the umpteenth time, I find myself doing rough sketches of the men in front of me. None of my drawings ever look particularly realistic - my doodles have more of a cartoony, comic book style - but I'm pretty proud of how they turn out. Once I've done Omar and Mr. Grand, I move on to the person I really want to doodle - Orlando. I don't get him right the first time. Or the second. Or the third. At first I can't seem to get his hair right, but by the end it's his eyes that are giving me the most trouble. Nothing I draw can capture how startling and direct they are.

She responded with a delightful giggle, her laughter filling the air with a sweet and uplifting melody that momentarily lifted the somber mood. “Look, look!" she exclaimed with excitement, squirming free from my embrace and darting over to the kitchen table. Amidst a collection of colorful crayons and scattered papers, I came across a heartwarming drawing. Mabel, with a proud smile on her face, pointed at the figures and exclaimed, "This is Daddy, this is Mum, and this is me," as she tapped each figure with her tiny finger.

She thrust a slightly crumpled piece of paper toward him. Elena smiled, setting the plates on the table. “Let’s see it.” The drawing was a simple, colorful sketch: three stick figures holding hands, with a sun overhead and a small heart above. The heartwarming innocence of it contrasted sharply with the harsh reality he was living. He placed a hand over the paper gently, careful not to crumple it further. “This is beautiful.” he murmured, eyes softening as he looked up at Elena. Aria beamed. “Do you like it, daddy?”

Cinnamon heart drawn on the lid. I picks it up slowly. It’s still warm. I don’t even pretend not to know who it’s from anymore. I take a sip and lets myself smile, just a little. Just enough. At the clinic, Missy barges in just after lunch with a new drawing. It’s a rainbow dinosaur holding hands with what looks like a tall man and a woman in a blue dress. Underneath, she’s written in shaky crayon letters: “Family.” I try not to let it shake me.

This was the kind of thing that woke the city up and left it grousing in its sleep. Around dusk, a woman from the daycare brought Sophie’s little blue spade and a crayon drawing of a family, three stick figures holding hands under an enormous yellow sun. The teacher’s hands trembled as she handed it to me. Sophie had drawn me with wild hair and a lopsided smile. She had drawn Alexander with a big square body and a neat tie. The third stick figure was smaller, a happy, tilted circle with two dots for eyes, Sophie’s own self-portrait. The paper smelled faintly of paste and crayons and every ordinary thing I wanted back.

I have never entered that room since I showed it to her and it seems enticing to me now. I turned the doorknob before walking to the spacious room. I went to the drawing board in the middle of the room instantly and there is a blank sheet clipped to the board. My eyes looked around the table just beside the board and I noticed the stack of papers that are lying there. I picked the stack up and looked through it. Adele has sketched on these papers. I smiled as I looked through her drawing. There is the drawing of a bird, an elephant, the sunrise, the beach, weird trees that did not turn out well, a dream catcher, and so other drawings on these papers. My hand stopped when I picked up a drawin

"What does your new friend look like, Heidi?" Heidi proudly lifted her drawing. It was a crude, childish sketch of a very tall figure standing between two giant green trees. The figure was colored completely in dark gray and black crayons, but the most unsettling part was the face. Heidi had used a bright yellow crayon to draw two massive, perfectly round circles for the eyes.

In⁠stead‍ everything a⁠round Liam became complicate‍d and emotional Noah suddenly ran⁠ into t⁠he office holding p⁠apers‍ excitedly. ‍“Look!” Av‌a b‍linked at the drawing he‍ shoved toward them. Three badly drawn stic‍k f⁠igures stood together holding hands. One had⁠ brown hair. One had black h⁠air‍. One smaller‌ figu⁠r‌e stood betwe⁠en t‍hem s‍mil‍ing. At t‌he top, writ‌ten in childish handwriting, we⁠re fou‍r words.

"What's it, sweetie?" Saben pushed the paper in her face. "Look! I did this for you! Sabrina took the paper, her heart softening at the sight. It was a drawing of their family—stick figures with big smiles, holding hands. Above them was a bright yellow sun, and beside them was a dog that Saben often talked about wanting. “It’s beautiful, Saben,” Sabrina said, pulling him into a hug. “You’re such a talented artist!” Benedict walked over and crouched beside them, ruffling Saben's hair to give him an occasional genuine but rare smile. "You did this all on your own, buddy?"

He rushes in and stops at the edge of Adrian’s bed. Adrian’s eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, champ.” Liam pulls out a folded paper from his bag. “I made you a drawing.” Adrian tries to sit up straighter. “Let’s see.” Liam hands it over carefully. It’s a crayon sketch of the three of us—me, Liam, and Adrian—holding hands under a bright yellow sun. There’s even a dog beside us, though we don’t have one. Adrian stares at it, clearly touched. “This is amazing.”