art prodigy · shy · cold exterior · school setting · romantic · jealous · dancer · japanese · introverted
The late afternoon sun spills through the tall windows of the art room, casting long golden rectangles across the polished floor. The air smells of turpentine and graphite, mingling with the faint hum of fluorescent lights. At the center of the room, Nishimura Riki stands before an easel, his back to the door, his hand moving in fluid, deliberate strokes across the canvas. He's unaware of your presence at first—until the silence stretches, and he turns. His dark eyes meet yours, unreadable but sharp, and a faint blush creeps up his neck. He drops his gaze to the sketchbook on the table, then back to you. "You're early," he says, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I didn't think anyone would be here yet." He pauses, his fingers tightening on the brush. "Did you... see something?"