Drawings On Converse 소설 & 이야기

But, heat. Hm. Crossing to the underwater drawer, I pick out a pair of black boy shorts and a strapless bra. Slipping into them, I tug on the dress. It takes me a moment and some maneuvering but I manage to do up the tiny side zipper, dragging to just under my armpit. I smooth my hand down the fabric, it’s so light, and airy, I had the insane urge to do jumping jacks. I have my own white converse, an expensive Nike I’d spent a few thousands on and absolutely loved, but still, I slipped on a pair of ankle socks and helped my feet into the shoes I found with the dress.

"Here's a pencil, Ashley." I take a pencil. I draw the curves and edges. I sketch all I see before me. When the bell rings, I notice I drew a soccer ball in front of the ballet shoes. Perhaps somewhere deep within, the desire to be friends with Aiden is so strong that I express my sorrow in art. "Pencils down. We will paint these the rest of the week." Mr. Connor comes over to my painting. "Nice ballet shoes on a soccer field. That would make for an interesting performance."

"Absolutely. And so I believed Tristian's claim to be false. But later, I checked my notebooks and guess what was filled in the back sheet?" "What?" I roll my eyes. This girl sometimes forgets to use her brain. "Ugh—dress sketches, Tessa! I made sketches while I was bored in the class. And by the look of the drawings,none of them appear like normal, disoriented scribbles or doodles. They are all perfectly designed and detailed drawings. Something I never believed I could make."

I ended up with delicate silver swirls along my temples and cheekbones, while Isaac chose bold blue designs that highlighted his eyes in an annoyingly attractive way. “Now for the real fun,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward a section of pavement that hadn’t been decorated yet. He bought us each a box of chalk, and we knelt on the ground side by side. “I have no idea what to draw,” I admitted, staring at the blank concrete. “Just let go,” Isaac suggested, already drawing a stick figure. “There are no rules.” No rules. What a concept.

Trying to lift away from him proves to be worthless as he traps me to his body with both arms and kisses me deeply. Pulling away, I note the feral windswept look burning in his brown eyes. “Ravishing …” He comments lowly, as his hands drift to my ass. Yelping, I again try to make my mistake as he squeezes my ass. He laughs happily as I finally make my mistake and roll to lie beside him in bed. Still grinning, he adjusts himself to sit a bit more and begins to draw on the notepad. King Harvey masterfully draws a thick line, then another and another until it is a shield. King Harvey’s drawing is an outline of a shield, and it looks like he would want me to trace it because the lines are so thi

Naturally breaking the tension, Sam shoved a bag in my face. “These should help Little Bit.” His Cheshire Cat smile made me a bit nervous to open this in front of the adults for some reason. “Should I be afraid?” I opened the bag slowly. It was heavy. When I got through the tissue paper I found a pair of black platform converse high tops. “Awe, Thank you. I was actually expecting something to embarrass me. “Nope, but now you will at least be taller than our elbows.” He laughs with everyone else, me included.

“I didn’t even know you could draw, let alone sketch something like this.” “Well,” she said, flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder and leaning a hip against the edge of my desk, “you’re not the only one who can surprise people, Luna. I’ve been dabbling here and there.” “Dabbling?” I echoed, holding up one particularly detailed design of a pair of boots with a hidden slot on the inside to keep cash or other small necessities. “This looks like a year’s worth of practice, not dabbling.” Ava shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression—something I couldn’t quite read just yet. “Well, people change,” she said simply.

I called out as I unzipped the backpack. Inside already sat a half-formed disaster: sketchbook, crayons, a Hot Wheels car, and a sheet of paper that looked suspiciously like a contract. I held it up. A note from school. I folded it and slid it into the front pocket before Ash decided to add a little dinosaur art to the corner. “One foot here, partner.” “My foot is big-gie!” Ash complained. “It doesn’t fit.” “Your big-gie feet fit in a dinosaur’s mouth, so they definitely fit in shorts,” Zane told him.

she asked, looking at the plan board. “Well, just like a great person once said; dress your enemies in gold, have them praise your work. And when the time is right, you remind them just how fast it is to make a break,” I said. The plan was simple, on the night of my grand reveal, the Conrads would all be in attendance, dressed in everything designed by me. And just well they praise and wow about the art. I have the crew with cameras documenting everything, capturing the whole night.

A handful of graphite pens. My fingers curl around the paper. The memory hits me like a physical blow to the solar plexus. The shoe designs. The factory layouts. The stitches. I know exactly how to draw them. I know the exact measurements. I let out a soft, involuntary breath, my lips curving into a wide smile as I stare at the page. "Betty?" The uncertainty in Adriel's voice is like a cold drop of water down my spine. I stiffen, but it is too late. I have already let the smile stay on my face for too long. I turn my head slowly, the drawing pad still clutched tightly against my ribs.