Title - Pictures of You

By - PheonixFireBlack

Summary - He has the secret ability of an artist. He's never told anyone about it, and no one finds out until that morning. Why did they have to find out? They were the one that he was trying to keep it from. This wasn't supposed to happen. Then again...Maybe he should reveal things like this more often.

Category - School of Rock

Genre - General/Romance

Rating - PG-13

Feedback - Please? It was fun!

Criticism - Sure, why not? Flame me for all I care. stares at flames Ooohhhh...preeettty colors!

Disclaimer - I don't own. I said so. You no sue me now. (grins

Notes - Alright, I'm back in black after my week-long suspension from heaves a sigh I was saddened deep down inside. LOL! Anyway, I'm back and here is the newest ficlet I've made for our favorite SoR slash pairing! Told in our resident drummer badass' P.O.V. I'll let you figure that out if you haven't already.

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Pictures of You

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I was sitting there, in the bed in our apartment, sketch book and shading pencil in hand. I really hope he doesn't wake up. And not any time soon. I'm nowhere near finished, and there's no way he'd be in this exact position ever again, and if he was, it wouldn't be anytime soon. A little more shading there...and...

Oh, shit. He isn't staying asleep. He is starting to wake up. This is not good. Go back to sleep, you moron! Sleep is good at...three in the morning! Ok, so I'm not sleeping at three in the morning, but I have my reasons. You, on the other hand, don't. You are simply waking up. Damn you. I hate you right now. You're screwing this up. I was almost done, you know? If you would have waited five more minutes, I could have been done and had all my stuff put up. But no. You had to go and wake up now! Oh, shit. I have to put my sketch book up! Shit!

Well, that didn't work very well. You woke up all the way, now. You weren't supposed to do that. Now I can't finish my sketch. Damn you, Zack! Then again, now that I think about it, maybe you did have a reason to wake up. It was probably the light. You always have had an issue with sleeping with any sign of light around. Damn.

"Mmm....Freddy? What are you doing?"

"Uh...nothing."

"No...you're doing something..." His voice was laden with sleepiness.

"So...uh...it was the light, right?" I ask, trying to keep his mind away from the fact that I have a sketch book in my hand. I have the feeling that this isn't going to work. Damn.

Zack sat up, obviously confused and wondering just what in the name of hell was going on. "Freddy, what are you--"

When he stopped like he had, I knew he had caught sight of the sketch book. Maybe he didn't see what was on it though.

"Freddy..." He says slowly, "What is that?"

"What...is what?" I asked, stupidly trying to play dumb. Maybe it was just because I didn't want to admit to the fact that I had just spent the last hour and a half sketching him. I didn't particularly like it. It wasn't right. Anyone else that looked at it would probably think it was perfect, but they would be wrong. I can see the imperfection in it.

"That," He gestured to the book, before taking it from me. He stared at the picture with wide eyes.

"Yeah...I-I know...it's not that great or anything, but...I dunno...I just--"

"Not that great? Are you nuts, Jones? This is beyond great!" A question found its way into Zack's brain, "Wait...do you...do this a lot?"

"Uh...Ki--Kind of." I said sheepishly. He wasn't supposed to know. He wasn't supposed to find out. I was keeping it a secret for a reason, you know. Just what that reason might be especially, I don't know, but there was one...in the beginning.

"How long?"

"Huh?" I asked dumbly, but not just playing this time.

"How long have you been doing this?"

"I dunno," I shrugged, "Since...we were in....high school, I guess."

"What year?"

"The...middle of our freshman year." I muttered, shocked when he heard me since I could barely hear myself.

"Wh...Why?" Zack asked me, curious.

This was the part that I hadn't wanted to come. This was the reason I never told him. This was...This was the part I didn't like. It was when I got all stutter-y and babble-y. Damn, I hate babbling. "I...I dunno...at...at first, it was just...something to do. But...later, I...I didn't realize it, but...it was something I did to, uh...sort of like...to have you with me, even though you weren't really there. And...after that...it was almost an obsession. Then....well...now, I just do it...out of habit, I guess."

"Wait...you've only sketched me?" He asked, pointing to himself.

"Mmm-hmm..." I nodded, chewing my lower lip. Dammit! I hate nervous habits!

"I...I just don't understand why you never told me."

"I-I didn't want you to know."

"I got that." Zack said, as if I had stated the obvious--which I probably had, but at the moment, I didn't realize it. "But...why? I mean...why didn't you want me to know?"

I felt my shoulders shrugging again, "I don't know, I just...I guess I didn't want you to think I was weird or something."

"But...after we got together..."

"I guess I...I just...never really...thought about it, I was...s-so used to, uh, keeping it to myself." I felt my lips jerk in an act similar to a smile that only lasted for a few moments. If I'm not mistaken, I think I'm blushing slightly, too. Dammit. I hate lights. They should be outlawed. "I just...I think...the reason I really never told you was...I just...I think I just...I didn't want you to see them and think they looked bad."

Zack had been flipping through a few of the pages upon pages of sketches in the book. He stopped and looked up at me, a look of utter disbelief on his face. "Are you insane? There's not a reason in the world for me to think these look bad, Freddy. I...they're perfect."

And he said it. He said exactly what I knew people would say if they saw the pictures. Well...they were wrong. He was wrong. I shake my head, "No, Zack...they aren't."

"Yes, they are!" He disagreed, "Look at this! Look at this!" He shoved the book towards the picture that the book was currently open to--one of Zack sitting, leaning against a tree. "You look at that sketch, and you look at me, and tell me that's not me. Tell me it's not perfect!"

"I know it's you, Zack, I was there when I sketched it. But it's not right." I said, turning two pages to a simple head-shot. This one I had done from memory. It was probably my favorite, I guess, but it still wasn't right.

"That's creepy, ok! That's like looking a mirror, Freddy!"

"No! See, that's the thing! I see the imperfection! You can't...but I can."

Zack still didn't believe me. I could tell from the look in his eyes, not to mention what he said next. "All right, then. Look at this picture. Tell me what's wrong with it."

I sighed, but decided to do as he asked--or demanded, rather. I looked at the picture for a moment. Things stood out to me like huge, red flags. It was so imperfect. Now, as I look at the figure, I hate it, but I finish what I'm doing because he had asked me to. I looked back at him. "In this one? Your jaw-line," I traced my thumb over his jaw, "Should be...more pronounced. Your eyes...closer together. And--"

"Freddy! Stop. Ok, look, you take this up to anyone, I mean anyone. I don't care if it's Dewey, or Summer or...some random person off the street! If you showed them this and asked if it looked like me, they'd say yes."

"That's what I mean! This is why I never showed--never told--anyone! No one's gonna see what I see!"

"Freddy...what's the big deal, here? I don't get it. You have this great artistic ability and you've kept it to yourself for the last...eight years and...and when I find out and tell you that it looks good, you get angry? How much sense does this make to you?"

"No, but...Zack, I..." I trailed off. I wasn't sure what I was saying, actually. "I don't know. Just...look at the book, tell me what you think of them, and...I just want to go back to sleep, ok?" I asked softly.

"Freddy, I..I just don't understand. I want to, but...it doesn't make sense to me."

"No matter how good those sketches look to you or anyone else in the world, it doesn't matter. They aren't...perfect, they aren't...right, they aren't...I don't know, Zack. This is probably why I have about sixteen of these books full of sketches. Because I don't like the last one that I did, but I always manage to mess something up in the next one. But I can't get rid of them because...well...they are good enough for that."

"But...why...I still don't understand why you think they're so bad."

"Because I can't draw the pictures the way I want to."

"How's that?"

I strayed slightly off the subject without meaning to, "You know...I think I, uh, just...figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"Why I think the pictures I draw aren't...perfect."

"Why?" He asked quietly.

"Because...the perfect sketch..." I leaned forward a little, "Is right next to me." And trapped my lips over his, sweeping us both into one of our passion-filled kisses that we could go comatose in.

When we separated, it was Zack's turn to blush, I guess, because he was. I can't help but smirk a little and trac the place on his cheeks where the color had tinted them with my thumb. "You're so cute like that." I smiled a little, a genuine smile that only he got.

"You mean what you said earlier?"

"Are you insane? Of course, I meant it! Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno, I just...I guess I'm just not used to hearing that kind of stuff from you."

"Well...maybe if you found my other sketch books, you could hear more things like that." I said, taking the book and closing it, sliding it under the bed. When I sat upright again, I saw taht Zack had lay back down. He never had exactly been a night owl. "What'sa matter? Tired?" I teased.

"Yeah, actually. Considering it was three when I woke up and it's now four fifteen."

I smile and lay down next to him, clicking my lamp off. "Good night, Zack Attack."

"'Night...you Spazzy Artist."

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End Pictures of You

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Notes - Well, that was totally cute, wasn't it? I thought so. (grin) Don't forget to let me know what you think!! Lol. NEW End-author's-note-review-saying!

Drop me a line!

Later days,

-PFB-