Masterpiece
The scene bore a striking resemblance to a fine painting. An inky black night dotted expertly with tiny flecks of yellow, an invisible wind rustling the leaves of the large oak tree which would have stood gracefully in the center of the canvas. The tree nearly drew all attention away from the boy standing below, sheltered by its strong, wise branches. Perhaps that was the intention of the artist who created the scene; for the boy to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
Of course that was the painter's intention. For the artist was the boy himself, not wanting to be noticed, but wanting nothing more than to be part of a perfect scene. And yet, the boy knew his painting was not complete. There was one thing missing. It would come soon enough though; an artist simply had to be patient.
And as if by magic, the last detail of the painting appeared. A girl appeared beside the boy, sheltered by the majestic tree, just as he had envisioned it. The boy was finally happy with the scene. He grasped the female's hand and squeezed tight, knowing that if he ever let go, the painting would cease to exist. It would no longer be a masterpiece.
-----
A/N: Alright, that was my first attempt at a drabble-like story. I know it's longer than one hundred words, so I'm not sure if it still qualifies as a drabble. Anyways, I really hope you all enjoyed that. It was just something that came to me randomly. Please review with opinions. Awesome, cheers!
-Liv