#obviously incredibly prime subject to project onto

[couchcouchcouchcouch]

HEART. LUNGS. LIVER. NERVES. HEART. LUNGS. LIVER. NERVES. HEART. LUNGS. LIVER. NERVES. HEART. LUNGS. LIVER. NERVES.

[hanbereviews]

Okazaki Kei Route Review

After an (admittedly long) hiatus we’ve returned to continue this review series and hopefully finish it off! Our third character is Okazaki Kei, my second favorite character in the game. Kei’s a well meaning security specialist who was assigned to protect Yanagi’s team, but you soon learn pretty early on he’s a glorified spy meant to report their movements back to the police. While I loved him as a person, I have a few qualms with his route. Since it’ll be harder and harder to give my honest opinions on a route without putting in spoilers, this review will start to get fairly SPOILER HEAVY. So be aware if you’re looking to play this game and spoilers will diminish your enjoyment. 

Characterization

Okazaki Kei is an incredibly complex individual that is more than he seems from the get go. Considering the common advice is to play Enomoto, Sasazuka, then Okazaki’s route in that order you can view it as the game ramping up the stakes. He’s a seemingly easy going guy housing dark secrets and a host of issues that would probably be tough for a therapist to work through in real life. 

And I think the game does a very interesting job of portraying them! Kei balances a lot of charming moments with the more intense ones just enough to get you invested in him and wanting more. His infatuation with Ichika, and by consequence the issues of an insane martyr complex and a possessive streak crops up slowly enough and is properly explained enough that you don’t feel like it’s a case of her being a mary sue. Okazaki is insanely affectionate, and it feels natural to his character in such a way that you think he’d behave this way with anyone. Which makes genuinely becoming closer to him in the story so much more satisfying! 

Okay I know I’m seriously gushing about him and his route certainly has its flaws, but I honestly suspended a lot of my disbelief for those flaws. That is to say, the whole way he solves his martyr complex kind of does rest on the power of heterosexual love. But the average otome enjoyer isn’t coming to the genre to see a plotline happen where a man gets six months of therapy. 

Plot Relevance

Following up on Sasazuka dealing with a member of Adonis, Okazaki does the same thing. While a lot of his conflict is primarily focused inward, the game doesn’t deprive you of a glimpse into the greater narrative and in fact connects the two fairly easily. 

On Ichika’s end, I have to say she did a fair bit of detective work here, most of it actually. Kei is firmly categorized as the brawn, a security guard, so a lot of times Ichika is bouncing ideas off him and taking initiative in the case. A breath of fresh air after dealing with her kind of being made out to be a bumbling idiot in Sasazuka’s route. 

Now the greater plot, is um, a piece of work. Okazaki’s route connects his internal conflict with Adonis. We’re shown a flashback of an assassination attempt on the prime minister, and Okazaki mistakenly attempted to save someone instead of committing himself to the job. The consequences were drastic, his partner dying to keep him safe. Except he finds out soon after that same partner was a mole for Adonis, and had a big hand in the assassination attempt. Kei is so traumatized that he develops the martyr complex that I mentioned just a few paragraphs earlier! He latches onto Ichika, because he projects a standard that she’s worth dying for. The narrative makes it clear it’s not because it’s Ichika, but rather because she was in the right place at the right time. 

So you expect a lot of the plot to be devoted to this right? Well, yes! But also no. Kei’s Adonis pair is a man who’s part of organized crime and was a former police officer. He grew increasingly dissatisfied with his job, being abused by his superior and constantly having his accomplishments stolen from him by said superior. As a result he grew so discontent with the police force he turned to crime. This is a very touchy and nuanced subject don’t you think? Exposing that police as an institution is rife with the ability for cops to be crooked, combined with them lording their authority over others. 

Well the game handles that with all the gentleness of taking a bat to someone’s window. The greater plotline plays out like such a weird pro-cop PSA that I felt kind of disoriented over it. You obviously can’t easily forget that this game is about the police as much as it as about dating guys. But I felt like I was getting slapped in the face over and over with “You NEED cops to protect you. Cops must ALWAYS be there. Corruption is only a few bad apples. Cops are IMPORTANT.” Like, I thought I was playing an otome game. Not debating the police’s general usefulness. And its especially stupid because Kei isn’t even a sterotypical cop! He’s specifically trained in security detail, you know, GUARDING people. Not chasing down criminals! Why was I getting this force fed to me on his route of all places?!

Character Interaction

This is where no exaggeration, the route was saved for me. Kei was accompanied by a junior officer named Hideaki Yoshinari who is effectively his right hand man, and their interactions are as funny as they are endearing. This also gives Ichika a handy outside character to talk to. This, combined with her speaking to her friends in the police force means she gets a wealth of outside interaction until the narrative closes her off a bit. However there’s actually a good explanation this time! I mean, if you can take Kei effectively being the game’s yandere as a good explanation.

Kei and Ichika’s interactions evolve in such a way that are incredibly interesting and pretty well written to me. Kei starts out infatuated with the idea of her, and with the idea of dying for her. He flirts, he gets touchy feely, and he makes her heart flutter. But it’s all in service to himself, and his inner monologues don’t really shy away from that fact. I mean, eventually they do truly fall in love. But Ichika growing to like him and thus not checking out of their potential relationship when she does catch wind of his freaky martyr complex, instead helping him work through it is super nice. And just to mention, the CG below the plot relevance header is an awesome and tension filled moment. Definitely surprised me a little bit. 

This is a side note, since I have nowhere else to put this but Kei’s um. Incredibly horny. I don’t know how else to put it, but we ramped up from rather vague innuendos and CGs that didn’t amount to much, to Kei openly talking about having sex with Ichika before the route’s climax (joke completely unintentional I swear). I mean this game is for adults, and every character is in their mid to late 20s, but still with how strong he came on I was shocked. I don’t think it helped that I’ve played pretty much every popular game Yuki Kaji has been in, and hearing the voice of the quintessential guy you call when you want him to play either screaming asshole or normal dude talk about how much he wants to have straight sex with you is crazy.  

Final Thoughts

I am being completely serious when I say even though I am giving this route a low score that Kei is still perhaps one of my favorite characters in the game. It’s too bad that the greater plot that intersected with his internal conflict was 5+ hours of having copaganda shoved down my throat. I indicated when I started this review that I don’t have good opinions of the police due to the aforementioned issue of my being black, and police in every country have a very very dark history of abusing their power. So I’m not going to act like that didn’t severely lower my enjoyment. 

I’m giving this route a 6.5/10. 

But like I said, Kei’s an extremely compelling character. So if you include my completely loving him, maybe you can inflate that rating by about 2 points.

[hanniiesuckle17]

The Painting

A/n: Okay not requested but like I was watching "The Marvelous Mrs.Maisel" (awesome show go watch it on Amazon prime) and got inspired and thought this would be cute and funny anyway...yeah

WARNINGS: Swearing, mention of nudity.

Summary: Essentially the reader and Jisung have been bestfriends for about a year and you are a Classical Art Major in College. So I guess this is a college au. Jisung is a Music Major obviously and he lives in a shared apartment with all the boys and you have a studio apartment by yourself. It's almost time for your final project to be turned in and you are trying to get Jisung to help you out.

College Au, friends to lovers au

_________________________________________

"Please, Hannie!" I chased my bestfriend of a year around my apartment. "Absolutely not!" He screamed, jumping over my couch. "Please! It's for my master's thesis! You know it's Classical Art!" He ran from me, shaking his head. "No, no, no. Absolutely not! Never in a million years!" I chased him around my kitchen before he sprinted into my living room.

"Jisung I've already seen it, what difference is it going to make!" As I said that, he fell over the back of my couch and crashed into my coffee table. His head of blonde hair lay on the floor while the rest of his body lay limp on the couch. "Oh my God! J, are you okay?" He nodded, clutching the back of his head.

Taking his hand, I pulled him up on the couch and looked down at him. "Wait how did you-" "Jisung, you are my bestfriend. I don't mind if you come over and use my shower to get away from the boys, but you should really close the door."

A bright red tint started to spread over the tips of his ears. "Please, J." He looked up at me as I gave him puppy eyes. "If it's not you I'll just have to ask one of the guys in the art department to do it." "NO!" He immediately stood up at my words, a look of panic on his face.

A smirk fell across my lips. "Fine." His voice drew out the word and his head fell back in defeat. "Yay!" I jumped up and down, success finally mine. I scrambled to get my canvas and paints by the window and pushed him towards my room. "I'm going to take so much shit from the guys if they ever find out."

"Shut up. Now get in there and strip."

_________________________________________

"Done!" I exclaimed marking the finishing touches on the canvas. "Please toss me my pants!" I laughed and tossed him the sweatpants he wore over to my apartment. I chuckled as he put them on in lightning speed. "I swear to God this better be the best goddamn fucking painting ever." He shuffled over and looked at my work.

His jaw went slack as he looked at the canvas. "What do you think?" He lifted it carefully off my easel. "Think I'll get an A?" He just stared at the portrait I made of him. "Are you that self obsorbed?" I laughed trying to get his attention. He finally looked over at me with a smile. "Y/n, this is incredible! It looks like a photograph." He handed it back to me with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"Well it's a good thing you agreed to be my subject, because my due date is in two days." I set the easel somewhere out of the way so the paint wouldn't accidentally get smudged while it was drying. "Umm...excuse me bitch, I prefer the term 'muse'. It's more romantic." He said with a smile while pulling his shirt over his head. "Also as long as you didn't have to ask one of those artsy, smoking, aesthetic, emotionally traumatized, ulzzang boys."

He turned his back to me and mumbled the last sentence. "Aww, J! Are you jealous?" I teased. He laughed as I hugged him. "What are you going to do with the painting after they grade it?" I shrugged as he followed me into the living room. "I think you should burn it." "What? No! I thought you liked it!" He collapsed onto my couch and rested his arm across the back. "Y/n. It's incredible. You are an amazing artist. It also has my bare ass in it." I sat on the other side of my couch and rest my legs across his lap.

"I'll put it in storage when I get it back then." He smiled and thanked me. "You painted me naked, I think I at least deserve dinner after that!" He laughed and handed me my phone while wiggling his eyebrows. "Yes, it isn't like every other day when I buy you dinner." Reluctantly I dialed the number of our favorite takeaway place, while Jisung chose a movie to watch.

A few weeks later, Seungmin, Felix, Chan, and Changbin were all over at my apartment to have a study group for Mathematics. Because we were all literally shit at math. High key we were all arts majors so we suck at everything. Jisung was supposed to show up, but he was stuck finishing a project at the studio. The boys lay in every free space my small living room could offer with books and papers everywhere.

"Hey, Y/n? Do you have any extra batteries? My calculator just died." I told Seungmin that they were in the closet next to my bed. The boy got up to go search for the batteries and the rest of us continued to work. Changbin had stretched across my couch so I was laid across his lap holding a big ass math book over my face, trying to cram its contents into my brain.

All of us jumped when we heard Seungmin scream from my room. This accidentally caused me to drop the three pound book on my face. The young boy ran into the room and screamed for everyone to look. I heard screams and gasps, but didn't get a chance to see, because one there was a book on my face, and two Changbin got up so quickly that I was knocked face down onto the floor.

"Y/n! What the hell is this?" Felix asked with a laugh. I rubbed my head and turned to see Seungmin and Minho holding up the painting of Jisung. My face went pale. "Did you paint this?" Felix asked. None of the boys could stop laughing. "Changbin take a picture!" Before Changbin could pull out his phone, I tackled him to the floor and we began to fight for the phone. Screams and laughs filled my apartment as my friends laughed at Changbin and me.

All of the noise stop as we heard the door open. We froze making the scene look incredibly like a sitcom. Seungmin and Minho stood holding the nude painting of Jisung with gaping faces. Felix stood on the couch cheering on Changbin. Chan was trying to drag me out of the fight, and I was straddling Changbin on the floor, who was trying to get to his phone which was raised high over my head.

The five of us turned slowly to see who had entered my apartment. Of course it was the worst person who could possibly arrive right now. Jisung stood frozen in shock, trying to comprehend the sight before him. Then his eyes fell onto the painting. Immediately his face switched to one of anger and his eyes shot to me, the girl still on top of his hyung.

"Yah! Kim Y/n!" He stormed towards me. Gripping my wrist, he pulled me off of Changbin and dragged me into my bedroom, slamming the door. There was nothing but silence in the living room. Then Minho spoke up.

"You think they're gonna fuck?"

The sound of him being slapped followed soon after.

Meanwhile in my room, Jisung paced my floor while I sat nervously on my bed. "J I'm-"

"Nope. You don't get to talk yet." He continued to burn a track into my wood floor in silence. "Well are you going to?" He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought you said you were going to hide it." "Well, obviously I didn't do a good job of that." I said with a smile. He shot me a look and it quickly fell.

"I'm sorry, Jisung! What did you expect me to do? Buy an entire storage unit for one painting?" "Yes!" Confusion and exasperation read clearly on my face. "No." He ran a hand through his blonde hair. Standing up from the bed, I walked towards him. "This was going to happen sooner or later. You agreed to do it in the first place."

"Only because I didn't want the girl I've been completely and irrevocably in love with for the past six and a half months to paint some other guy's deal!" He shouted. Heavy silence filled the room.

"Oh shit." Felix's voice could be heard from outside the door. Jisung angrily crossed over and kicked the door and many screams could be heard from the other side.

"Fuck." He kept his back to me, head down. "Y/n, please say something." His voice was low so as to not let the other boys hear. I was at a loss for words. "Tell me how you love me." He turned at my voice. "You know I've always been terrible with words. Paint me a picture." I kept my tone low and it felt like it was just a secret between me and him.

Slowly, Jisung made is way over to stand in front of me, his brows furrowed like they always did when he was thinking. He still had yet to touch me, but I could feel the air had changed between us as we stood face to face, closer than ever before. I stared up at his features which I had painted and sketched time and time again.

"When I see you," he kept his gaze on the floor. "When I look at you, it feels like everything I do or say isn't nothing anymore. When I look at you, all of the songs I've heard on the radio start to make sense. When I look at you, I feel like someone took galaxies from the night sky and put them in your eyes so that I could know what eternity looks like. I don't want you to be mine. I'm not worthy of that luxury." His eyes still were focused on the floor, but I didn't mind.

"When you paint or sketch you have this talent for capturing it's most vulnerable state. I have been the subject of so many sketches, and portraits, and paintings, and each time you have stripped me down to my core farther than any clothes or skin could hide. And each time, I think that I have nothing left to hide, but then I see myself through your eyes and I finally understand who I am a little more. I found myself in you and for that I am in your debt. And yet I have the audacity to stand here, and ask something more of you."

Slowly he met my gaze. His eyes reminded me of the first time I ever drew him. He was working on some track with Changbin and I sat in the studio with them. I had only met him a few days prior. I was aimlessly sketching and my gaze fell on him. Their was something about the way his eyes sparkled but held a soft vulnerability when he listened to his music. My hands went to work at capturing that stare, but I could never get the rest of his face to fit the way his eyes looked, so that was all that rested on the page.

He stood before me with the same look in his eyes. "Please, let me give myself to you. Every piece of my heart has been yours for the longest time. Won't you please accept it?" I looked down to see his hands shaking a little by his sides. Taking them gently in my own, I looked back up at him.

"I do not deserve to be the subject of such beautiful words. And I feel my answer would be insufficient to your confession." I let go of his hands to retrieve my sketchbook on the desk. Carefully, I placed it in his hands. He looked from me to the book before carefully opening it. I watched him flip from page to page. Each was filled with scribbled out sketches of a girl or a girl's eyes. But, as he reached the middle, they turned into a pair of eyes that he immediately recognized as his own. Then to pictures of him. On the very last page there was a sketch of Y/n's eyes fully drawn out and not marked over. They were drawn as if looking in a mirror, but in her eyes, was the silhouette of a boy.

I placed my hand gently over his. "I have learned to see myself through my muse." He smiled down at me and he tossed the book onto my bed. He wrapped his arms around my waist and gently pulled me into his embrace. My head rested against his chest and I could hear his heartbeat slow from its previous fast pace.

I couldn't tell how long we stayed like that. But, reluctantly I pulled away. "You should go out and face the music." I nodded towards the door. "Please, just one more minute!" He whispered as he buried his face in my neck, his blonde hair tickling my skin. I slowly pushed him towards the door and he whined into my neck causing me to laugh. "If you are going to make me go out there I need some incentive to withstand my teasing." He mumbled against my skin. I smiled and pushed him against the wall next to the door.

His head shot up in reaction and looked down at me, half in shock and half in interest. My hands traveled up his chest to his shoulders, then to his jaw and then to the back of his neck. I pulled him close and smiled, placing a lingering kiss on the corner of his lips. Pulling away, I opened the door and pushed him in front of me, quickly changing the atmosphere.

"Y/n, you bitch." "You love me." He went silent at that and then the boys bombarded the two of us with questions, holding the painting so everyone could see.

"So was the painting before or after the sex?" Minho asked throwing an arm over my shoulder. "Painting was foreplay. I like it messy." Minho was shocked, obviously not expecting me to respond and so was Jisung.

"So how much bigger did you actually have to make his dick. We all know that painting isn't the real thing." Seungmin said motioning to the canvas. Jisung looked down obviously quite embarrassed about the whole ordeal. I quickly came to his side and wrapped my arms around his torso. "Actually, I had to make it smaller in the painting because I couldn't sketch it proportionately as the canvas was too small. Jisung looked up at me a huge blush painted on his cheeks and ears. While the other boys debated on whether I was lying or not.

Jisung looked down at me, still blushing. "You are incredible." He leaned down and kissed me sweetly.

"Chan can we hang this in our living room?" Changbin screamed.

"THAT'S IT I AM MOVING OUT!"

Masterlist

[fics-for-my-heart]

Art and Drama

Summary: Everyone can see it but the two of you.

Word count: 4512

Warning: Swearing, awful writing

A/N: This kinda sicks. Half way through I had some awful writers block but I still wanted to post it. This was for the Teacher prompt/idea thing I posted (here). Hope your guys enjoy.

Masterlist

 “Class, don’t forget that we have the field trip to Road Art tomorrow. Please remember to bring a lunch. I’ll send reminder messages tonight. Does anyone have any questions?” You scanned the faces of the class in front of you waiting for a hand. “Alright. Well, work on your projects till class is over. We will meet out front at first bell tomorrow.”

  All the Arts and Humanities teachers had decided on a field trip to a traveling art exhibit that was stopping at the local University. There would be different art pieces, instruments, and even plays. It tackled all the subjects of the arts so it was perfect.

 Before you could walk away a hand went up, it was Ginger, one of the sophomores in your class . “Ms. Y/L/N. I have a question, but it’s not about the field trip.”

 “What’s up?” You asked, walking over and sitting beside her while everyone else started on their projects.

 She looked at Niki, another sophomore in the class before looking at you and giggling. “Have you seen Mr. Holland?”

 “Ginge, I work with the man, of course I’ve seen him.” You rolled your eyes, you knew where this was going, all the girls loved him, mostly for the fact that he was cute and from England.

 Mr. Tom Holland was the drama teacher. Being from the same department, the two of you saw a lot of each other, plus you both joined the staff three years ago. The two of you shared a few late nights here and there setting up different events or going over test and assessments. He alway wrote the best plays, and you always helped with the set design. He was cute, but that wasn’t something you were going to share with a group of gossiping teens.

 “Is he single?” The girl snickered, her eyes wide waiting for your answer.

 “I’m not sure.” That was a lie, he had expressed many times before that he was single, but again, not something they needed to know.

 Ginger sighed. “Ya know, Ms. Y/LN, the two of you would be cute together.”

 “Alright. That’s the end of this conversation. Get to work on your projects.” You shook your head laughing at the girls. They weren’t the first ones to say that. Some of the staff were worse. Like Addy Russell, your best friend, and choir director. The first time you and Tom had stayed late together you didn’t think you would hear the end of it.

 The rest of the day was quiet. It was almost the end of the quarter so you let the kids work on their projects or other work. At the end of the day, you stood in your doorway to monitor the halls. Some students would come in and use the art class for an hour or so, or run up and ask you questions so the door was the prime spot for everything.

 “Good afternoon Ms. Y/LN.” A familiar voice spoke behind you, causing your mouth to spread into a smile against your will.

 “Good afternoon Mr. Holland.” You turned, facing the brown eyes man.

 He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and a smile matching yours on his face. “How was your day?”

 “Oh, ya know. Lots of paint, oil pastels, makers. Same old same old. How was your day?” You rested your head on the doorframe looking at him as he watched the kids laugh and chatter down the hall.

 “Dramatic.” He laughed at his joke while you rolled your eyes. “Actually, I’m working on a new play.” His eyes locked with yours, that same brightness to them he always got when he was excited about a new project. “Want to read over it? You’re the only one I trust to work on the set and backdrop.”

 Just as you smiled, a giggling group of girls walked by, Ginger in the middle very unsubtly winking at you. “I’d love too.”

 “Sick. Well, I’m going to go make you a copy of it. I’ll stick it in your mailbox.” He pushed himself off the wall, walking backwards towards his door a few down from yours. “See you tomorrow Ms. Y/LN.”

 “Have a good evening Mr. Holland.” You waved, watching the last of the kids empty out the hall before turning into your room.

--

 “Alright guys, when we get there the coordinator is going to talk to us and answer some questions, then you are free to roam around the building and visit the exhibits. Anyone seen in an area they aren’t supposed to be in will receive a write up. Am I clear?”

 “Yes Mrs. Russell.”

 “Good. Now go line up with your teachers for roll and we will be on our way.” She hopped off the bench she was on as the kids started walking around.

 After ensuring everyone from your class was present you lead them to the bus and counted them again and found a seat.

The seat beside you dipped. “Good morning Y/N.” It was Harrison, the Gym teacher and Tom’s best friend since they were in schools.

 “Good morning, Haz.” He wasn’t big on having the kids call him by his last name so they all called him Mr. H. “How are you?”

 “I’m swell. I’m glad you guys asked me to chaperone because Tom hasn't stopped talking about this and I really wanted to go.”

 As of on cue, Tom bounced onto the bus. He instantly found the two of you but narrowed his eyes at Harrison as he made his way down the aisle. “I thought we would sit together?” His question was directed at you, his bottom lip out a bit.

 Harrison draped his arm over you. “Sorry mate. I was here first.”

 “You guys suck.” He whispered before making his way to the back of the bus. Moments later both your phones buzzed.

 Tommy Boiii in Work Hoes: Haz u suk m8

 Hazzy Boiii: slow feet loose ya seat

 You: now now, are we in middle school?

 Tommy Boiii: High school actually

 You: l8r h8r

 When the buses arrived at the Universities Art Center, you and Abby lead the group to the theater where the coordinator would be speaking. Once all the kids were seated, you scanned the rows for an empty seat only to be met with Tom standing in the back row looking right at you. He nodded his head and pointed at the seat beside him.

 “I was going to yell your name if you didn’t look at me.” He laughed when you sat down.

 “Oh shut it.” He opened his mouth to speak at the same time the coordinator started and you stuck a head up. “No. Really. Shh. I want to hear what he says.”

 He introduced himself as Mel Robertson. He gave a short introduction on himself, and about each of the exhibits set up throughout the building. The painting and music exhibits held pieces from from different time periods and two different plays would be performed on the two stages with a chance for everyone to see them. After the short intro, he opened the floor up for questions.

 “How long did it take to set this up?”

 “About two years. There was a lot of rehearsals for the plays, and having to contact the right people in order to obtain permission to show the art pieces. Collecting the instruments was probably the most difficult part. But, it was well worth it because it’s been three years now and we always have amazing turn out.”

 “Are any of the art pieces originals?”

 “Sadly, no. It was too expensive insurance wise to be able to get originals. But, it was also safer to present copies because of the risks of damage while traveling. However, the copies we have are all professionally done and are almost indistinguishable from the originals.”

 The questions rolled in for a few more minutes till Mr. Robertson looked at his watch. “Well, I believe it’s time to get started. I’ll let your teacher take it from here. If any of you have any questions feel free to ask.” He waved as he and Abby traded places.

 “You guys are free to roam. All I ask is that you please be respectful and that you stay in the building. There’s a cafe in the basement if you guys want to eat, and we will make an announcement over the intercom when it's time to leave. Now, off you go, have fun.” All at once, everyone was up and making their way to the exits.

 “So.” Tom started, taking a map from one of the people by the door. “Thanks. Where to first?”

 You looked over his shoulder, pointing at the area for the paintings. “Obviously.”

——

 In all honestly, you were surprised in the best way at the variety of artists and art they had displayed. Everything from pencil sketches to textiles, from Van Gogh to Raphael. The coordinator was serious about the pieces looking authentic.

 ��Wow.” The moment you walked in you were drawn to a Van Gogh piece. “This is incredible.”

 “This is Van Gogh, right?” Tom asked, stepping beside you and examining the piece.

 You pointed at the small label at the bottom. “Yeah. It’s “The garden of the asylum at Saint-Rémy”. It’s one of my favorite pieces he did.”

 “Tell me about it.”

 Your eyes scanned the colors as you spoke. “He painted it in 1889 while he was receiving treatment at the asylum. He did a lot of paintings there, all centered around the grounds of the building. The colors are my favorite part.” You point at the top of the tree. “The way he captures the different shadows from the light. This attention to the colors and the amount of detail takes my breath away.”

 “It is beautiful.” Tom was almost whispering and in the room full of chatty teens it was almost inaudible. He moved, brushing his elbow against your arm as he looked at another painting. “Woah. Can you tell me about this one?”

 You pulled your eyes away and followed his finger to another painting that was just as amazing as the first. “Oh my. That’s a Frida Kahlo piece called “The Broken Column”. She painted it in 1944 after she had surgery on her back. The white around her is said to represent the metallic corset she had to wear, and the column that’s broken is her back.” You were silent a moment, just taking in the painting. “The way you can almost feel the pain just by looking at her eyes. It's incredible how much emotion she can have someone feeling.  A lot of her art was self-portrait. Another piece she did called “The Nurse and I” depicted her as a infant being breastfed by a wet nurse. It’s a very interesting piece, I’ll have to show it to you sometime.” You glanced over at him, he was already looking at you, a smile on his face. “What?”

 He blinked, shaking his head while laughing to himself. “Nothing. I just enjoy hearing about art from you.” He extended his elbow. “Tell me more.”

 He escorted you through all the exhibit. There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach as he asked you about different pieces, and it was clear that he really was interested in knowing about them. It was nice to be able to talk as much as you wanted about the difference between the brush strokes, or the way the colors were mixed a certain way to achieve the color.

 Tom loved hearing you talk about the art. He loved your voice if he was being honest with himself, and he loved how excited you were when you’d talk about your favorite painting or sketch. The way your eyes would light up, and how you would squeeze his arm slightly when you would get super excited about a fact. He wanted to keep you talking about art as long as he could, so he was a bit sad when you reached the last painting.

 The two of you joined Harrison and Abby lunch in the cafe, then toured around the musical instruments before heading to watch the plays. This was what Tom was excited about. He loved everything about theater.

 “It’s the way you get transported into the story of a well written play. And how you can be another person if you’re performing in one.” His eyes were bright in the shadows from the lights on stage. Excitement filling him much as it had filled you earlier.

 Watching his face change throughout the plays was almost as entertaining as the plays themselves. Much like when he was watching on of his own plays come to life, his face was a mixture of emotions. Brows knitted together or up in his hair. Lips either between his teeth or stretched into a smile. His foot tapped along to the beat of musical numbers while his fingers tapped across his leg. Watching him was like watching a one man play.

 “What?” He asked when he glanced over at you. It was much like earlier when he was watching you.

 “Nothing, I just enjoy watching you watch plays.” You shrugged, poking him with your elbow and watching a slight pink cross his cheeks.

 When the second play was over. Abby’s voice filled the building announcing it was time to go. You and Tom walked together and he had his class meet beside yours, determined to sit beside you this time. But the time the busses arrived back at the school it was time for last class so everyone went their separate ways. For you, that meant a planning period so you stopped by your mailbox and headed to your room, planning to enjoy the next hour alone.

 Your mail was mostly announcements and flyers for different school events, but there was something in a Manila envelope marked “-T”. When you opened it you remembered Tom had given you a copy of his script. Sitting back in your chair you started reading. It was the story of a struggling artist who was constantly being belittled by the people around him. But, he never stopped, even while being broke, he never stopped painting. You were instantly pulled into the story, so into it that you missed the sound of the bell for the end of the day. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat at your door that you looked up.  

 “Alright there, love?” Tom asked, his smile widening when he noticed his scripted in your hands.

 You held it up as he made his way to your desk. “Tom, this is amazing.”

 “I knew you’d like it. I’m thinking of trying to get it going soon, have it be the final play of the year.”

 “I’ve already got tons of ideas for backdrops. I’ll sketch some up this weekend and we can meet up Monday after school?” You face was bright, ideas buzzing around your mind of different ways to set the scenes.

 “I’d love that.” He tapped his knuckles on your desk before turning on his toes. “Have a lovely weekend Y/N”

 “You too, Tom!”

—-

 When you returned to school Monday, you were almost too excited. You had spent the entire weekend designing different ideas for buildings, different paintings for the main character to do, and different odds and ends to help set the mood. Tom knew you well, he had scribbled some of his own ideas and visions in the margins which is always a nice help.

 The final bell rang and you were literally bouncing around you room. You grabbed your art binder, scribbled out a quick sorry note for the door, and weaved your way through the crowd of kids to Tom’s room. He was still at his desk when you entered, shutting the door behind you. He looked up at the sound of the hall muffling, a smile taking over his face as he saw it was you, with an equally big smile.

 “Well good afternoon Y/N. How are you?” He set his pen down and watched you walk to his desk.

 “I’m fantastic. I finished the script and went right to work and I think you’ll like some of these ideas.” You handed him the binder, suddenly a bit nervous.

 He stood, making his way to the long table in the front of the room. Slowly he opened the binder and spread out the papers. He brought his hand up to play with his bottom lip as he examined them individually, eyes scanning every detail. Brows pinched in concentration. Your heart fluttered at how beautiful he was.

 “Y/N.” His voice snapped you out of your trance. “These are incredible. You always manage to get things how they were in my head.” You slowly joined him at the table, watching as he looked back at the sketches. “Seriously, these are amazing. When do you want to start working on them?” Excitement laced his voice as his bright boyish face looked at you.

 “Well, this week is finals and next week is the start of break. I don’t have any plans of you want to start then?” Seeing how excited he was brought the excitement back for you too.

 “You got yourself a date.”

 The week blew by. Grading finished projects and submitting final grades. Between class visits with Tom to talk about a tweak here or there on a design. Before you could blink, you were walking into the empty building to start prep. The only sound in the hall was your shoes squeaking as you made your way to Tom’s room only to find he was there.

 You: Where are you?

 You: I swear if you forgot about our plans.

 Just as you were about to call him music started from the auditorium. As if the school wasn’t already spooky, muffled music made it worse. Slowly, you made your way to the end of the hall, stepping quietly inside. Your breath caught. Tom was on stage, a rather tight tank and sweats on. He was dancing. Spinning and leaping to the rise and fall of the music. It was beautiful and hypnotic. When the music ended, he landed the final leap, chest heaving and forehead shiny with sweat.

 “Bravo!” You clapped, causing him to nearly fall over.

 “Shit. Oh my god you scare me.” He bent with his hands on his knees as you made your way to the stage.

 Looking up at him, you smiled. “That really was amazing.”

 His cheeks were flushed as he smiled. “Thanks. Now, get up here and let's get to work.”

 The two of you spent the day going over the script and setting up placement for people, props, and set pieces. It was the most important first step and Tom set each scene on its own paper. Every move was planned first, then as the set pieces were introduced he would make adjustments. It was fun. You represent each character, letting Tom move you where he wanted you to go. His hands were nice, but there was work to do so you pushed the thought out of your head.

 As the week went on, the two of you made your way through the script, getting a rough idea for placement. There were also lots of trips to hardware stores and local restore stores to get things to help with preparing the set. Spending so much time together was nice. Neither of you really knew just how much you liked each other.

 When school started back up Tom got to work setting up auditions while you recruited students to help with set. Most work was limited to after school, but where were a few times Tom would be so excited about an idea that he would bust into your classroom to tell you. Of course, by this time everyone knew you were helping with the play more than before. Tom was coming directly to you with ideas. The two of you sat close in the cafeteria running through things.

 Set building began, and so did play practice. By this time, you and Tom were with each other every day. Your feelings were growing and growing. Tom would wipe some paint off your face and your knees would go weak. He wasn’t much better, the paint on your face made you even cuter. You were both so blinded by nerves that you couldn’t see that you liked each other. But everyone else could tell.

 “Ms. Y/LN.” Gingers hand was in the air, fingers wiggling. “Are you and Mr. Holland dating yet?”

 “Ginger.” Your face warmed as the class giggled. “Why would you ask that?”

 “Please. He clearly likes you! My brother is in his class and apparently you’re all he talks about!”

 You shook your head. “I’m not discussing this. We aren’t dating.” You kept your face stern, ending the conversation, even though your insides had turned to mush.

 It was true though. Tom had started mentioning you a lot more in class. Especially when a new idea would pop into his head. His first words would be “I need to tell Y/N!” And out the door he would go. The class didn’t mind, they enjoyed watching everything play out. But, with you both unknowing of the other feelings, it was making things go agonizingly slow.

 “You know, you and Tom are the talk of the school.” Abby mentioned one weekend while setting up a movie. “All the kids have a ship name for you. And pretty sure I’ve heard something about a running poll on when you guys will finally kiss.”

 “Oh please.” You body warmed at the thought of kissing him, but Abby didn’t need to know that.

 Abby made a tisk sound while joining you on the couch. “Y/N. Come on, you’re telling me you can’t see it?”

 “See what?”

 “Tom likes you.”

 “Bullshit.” You laughed, taking a handful of popcorn. “You’re worse than the kids.”

 “I’m being serious. I happen to know from a very reliable source that it’s true. Also, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him. Y/N he comes to you first with ideas, and don’t think I didn’t see you guys walking arm in arm at Road Art. He was literally beaming at you the entire time.”

 “Whos this ‘reliable source’? Also, duh we are working on the play together.”

 “Who do you think told me? Who, beside you, does Tom spend most of his  time with?” She gave you her teacher look. Eyebrows raised and lips pursed.

 “Harrison? How do I know you’re being forreal?”

 She groaned. “Stop being so stubborn. Whatever. I told you what I know, what you do now is up to you.” She rolled her eyes and played the movie.

 After the talk with Abby, you started to notice the little things more. Tom sat a little closer, stayed later to help you clean up. His text were more frequent and not always about the play. Without fail he was by your door between classes and at the end of everyday. You still couldn’t bring yourself to believe that it was because he liked you. No matter how many times you imagined grabbing his face and kissing him, there was still a bit of doubt.

 Soon it was time for the first show. You were probably just as nervous as the kids.

 “Everything looks wonderful Y/N.” Tom said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You’d been double checking everything, making sure things did what they were suppose to, and that everything was in its place.  “Thanks.” You rested your head on his shoulder. You’ve been a lot of help getting this stuff done.”

 “I should be thanking you. This would have all still been in my head had you not helped. This is mostly possible because of you.” He squeezed you closer, kissing the top of your head causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy.

 All three days went off perfectly. So well in fact, there was another day added, as well as one last performance for the school. The show for the school was the best one of them all. All the kids were excited to put on a good show for their friends, and the rest of the students were excited to see finally see the play. By the end, you had tears in your eyes both from how proud you were of the kids and how sad you were that it was over.

 “Guys! I have a few things to say!” Nick, the lead roll, said while waving his arms to get everyone's attention. “Firstly, this was probably my favorite play to have done, and the group of people I was able to do it with made it even better. Secondly, as a Senior, I’m so glad that I was able to have this play be my last one of my high school career. Thirdly, can Mr. Holland and Ms. Y/LN come out please?” The two of you shared a look before joining the cast on stage. “This play wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for the two of you. You have both been such an inspiration to all of us, so we wanted to do something special for you.” Nick turned and motioned for someone backstage. Tom’s hand reached for yours and you intertwine your fingers.

 “All of your classes got together and we secretly sold goodies and other things to help raise money for next years play.” Two other seniors had joined the front of the stage, a huge check in their hands. Tom’s hand squeezed yours, a huge smile was planted across both of your faces. Excitement flowed through you both as Nick took a moment before he continued. “Together, we raised $4,391.”

 Your eyes grew wide and your mouth dropped. Tears were freely flowing down your face now. The fact that these kids cared enough about the plays absolutely warmed your heart. Tom wore a matching expression to yours. The auditorium was full of cheers, your body was so warm and fuzzy that you almost thought you were dreaming. Tom tugged on your hand, pulling you into a hug, and meeting your lips with his. What?

 Everyone cheered even louder. Whoops and hollers and shouts of finally. But for you, everything stopped. When he pulled away, his face was full of shock

 “Oh my. Oh no. I’m so sorry.” He frantically scanned your face trying to gauge your reaction. “I’ve been want omg to do that for so long. And there was just so much happening just now that I kinda lost myself. Oh man. I hope I di-” You put your finger over his mouth to silence him.

 All the kids on the stage had circled around you, laughing and full of excitement that the two of you finally made a move.

 “Just shut up and kiss me, Mr. Holland.”