Minato Drawing Novels & Stories

A man, there is a girl in the middle of them and a woman holding hands. Well, I assume that the two in the drawing are women because they have skirts. Of course, who else are these three. It's Kenzo, Yelena and Marga. Their family drawing made by Yelena. I looked at his other drawings, there are mountains and then in the middle is the sun and I think the flower farm below him is the water color used in the drawing. There are also other drawings that look like the three of them again, but the same colors were used in the drawing.

Because after I was done, I looked down. I saw Angelstar, my wolf, and a beautiful wolf has a midnight color on his tail and under his chest with a shape of a paw on his chest. I knew it was a bigger guy than her and me because they were on the mountain top watching the sky. Then something came to my mind. So I started drawing on the other pad. I was underlining the picture and coloring and shadowy the part of the picture. Once I was done. I gasped and hid my flush face because I had drawn a girl with beautiful platinum blonde hair and purple eyes, but I kept my eyes on her. Oh, my God! The drawing looks just like-

I asked, sketching something on a note. I didn't know what I was doing with a pen but I was bored as fuck, so I asked John, who had been employed to watch me sit while I sketch him. He took Will's work of watching me, although he isn't able to do anything yet, it was to have a companion or something William had taken the place of Alec and he was doing very fine. "No." The sixteen years old boy replied. He had artificial green hair and black dim eyes. I tapped my pen on the note this time, looking up at the wall clock.

“Not yet.” He nodded, accepting it. “Then I’ll wait. As long as it takes.” “You say that like it’s simple.” “It is,” he said. “Because I lost you once. I’m not making that mistake again.” Before she could respond, Eira ran back in with her drawing pad, insisting on showing off the sketch she’d been working on. It was crude and colorful. Three stick figures. One tall and dark haired. One with long brown hair. One small with a pink bow.

He yawned, still blinking at her like an owl. Whitney’s tension cracked at the edges, yet she knelt, brushing his hair back. “I’m here now.” He nodded solemnly, as if that solved everything in the universe, he held up a folded paper from behind his back. “What’s that?” she asked. “A drawing,” he mumbled. “For you.” She unfolded it, revealing a crooked house, two boys badly drawn but smiling, and a tall woman with ridiculous silver hair that swooped like a superhero cape.

He didn’t look up. “I need to keep my eyes on you.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. I sat down on one of the chairs. It’s too quiet. I feel like my ears are going to implode from too much silence. It’s so boring. I noticed a stack of paper and a brush by the floor. This must be Yukio’s. I sat on the floor and looked at his drawings. Most of it was scribbles but there was one that I like the most. It was a painting of me. He wrote the word ‘Mama’ at the bottom. I folded it and hid it inside my sleeve. I sat back down on the chair. I hadn’t realized that I had fallen asleep.

The walls were rough, carved by hands that had worked long before any of us were born. “This was never in the blueprints,” Adrian murmured. We moved on slowly. The tunnel narrowed, the ceiling lowering until Leo had to duck. Ahead, water slowly dripped, and each drop was audible in the silence. My heart beat in my ears, steady but hard, like it was warning me. Then I saw it. A small chalk drawing on the wall. I stopped so fast Adrian nearly ran into me. “What is it?” he asked. I didn’t answer. The drawing was simple, uneven lines forming a crooked house with a sun in the corner. Beside it was a stick figure holding another’s hand. The smaller one had long hair.

There, hidden behind a curtain of weeping carbon-fiber vines, was a small, dilapidated shack. "What is this?" I asked. "The only place the grid can't see," Xander said. He pulled back the vines, and I saw a wall covered in jagged, hand-drawn charcoal sketches. I gasped. The sketches weren't of buildings or machines. They were of us. There was a drawing of a man and a woman standing in a mountain of gold; a drawing of a girl with a wooden ring; a drawing of a man with orange eyes holding a woman in the rain.

She touched one drawing. "This is the river. This is the buildings. This is the chamber." She moved her hand along the progression. "This is the arrivals. All of it, drawn, in order." She stopped. "And then this." Aria crouched down. The drawing at the end of the sequence was different from the others. Not architectural. Not geographical. Not the specific practical diagrams Elena had used for the physical preparations. A circle. Inside it, two figures. One large. One very small.

He could tell that the drawing was upside down because Caiden drew himself, too. And the wolf? Was drawn as a shadow. Dante stared at the drawing for a good while. It was impressively drawn and detailed, and the longer he looked at it, he saw that in Caiden’s hand in the drawing was a name tag. It was small but he could read it and it had some unknown characters on it. Rubbing his temples, he placed the drawing and left. “This child is a headache all on his own.”