ii - seven of swords

Dev is thirteen years old.

His green blazer is itchy and there is a paint stain on his tie already. His first art class at Oakwell Abbey is going great.

He hasn't made friends yet, in the two days he's been here, but Dev isn't one to make friends anyway. His roommate is nice, but quiet, even quieter than Dev himself, and maybe he's shy, but he likes music, Dev knows that much.

The art teacher is walking through the rows of students sitting in front of their easels, and now he's walking past Dev, looking at his painting, a smile on his lips. He stops, leans closer to the canvas, and there's that shine in his eyes. The one Dev loves. Or used to love.

"I am amazed, Dev," the teacher says. It's just a light study the students have to paint. Nothing to be amazed by. "This is the most accurate study I've seen so far. Since when have you been learning, if I may ask?"

"Thank you, I, uhm, I've been seriously studying painting since I was... six, I think? I-it's not-"

"Since you were six? My, my. Keep going, Dev. This is great. You have a fantastic understanding of light and shadow, your values are amazing."

Dev bows his head, partly to thank his teacher, but also to hide his reddening face.

The teacher moves on, and he hears him speak some more praise to the boy next to him before continuing his rounds. Dev tries to continue his study, but now he feels the gaze of someone else on him. He turns his head around to face the boy next to him.

A pair of curious blue eyes look right back at him, scanning the canvas, then Dev, then the canvas again, and the boy smiles.

"I'm Nicolas," he says. "This is pretty good."

"Thank you," Dev answers, sneaking a peek at Nicolas' canvas as well. His is great as well. The values could be better. Dev decides not to say that, though. "I'm Dev Ansari."

Nicolas' eyes light up a little.

"I heard the teacher was praising you!" He purses his lips. "You are really good. What do you like to paint?"

What does Dev like to paint? He just paints people, usually. Dad's coworkers. Sometimes models, or old statues. Sometimes, when he has the time, when there's no client, he likes drawing plants. He's not good at it, though, Dad usually doesn't like these.

"Portraits, usually," Dev decides to say. "I've been working with oil a lot lately."

"That is so cool," Nicolas whispers, the smile on his face growing. "I like painting portraits too. We're kinda similar!"

Dev knows that he isn't like anyone here. He also knows not to talk about that. His father has told him many times. The headmaster has, too.

"You're pretty cool, Dev. We should be friends, what do you say?"

Or perhaps he can pretend to be like everyone else. Yes, friends. Friends with the other kids. Friends with another painter. Dev smiles at Nicolas, nodding.

"Sure, let's be friends."

☾-☾- ☆ -☽-☽

WC: 514