Okay, I really know that I should either be working on my nearly completed Harry Potter fanfic or revising for my maths exams, but... I've wanted to write this for ages, so here goes. This will be a multi-chapter Destiel story about a British AU (because I'm British and it's easier to write) where Castiel is a scholarship student at a prestigious Art Academy, and Dean is studying mechanics at a local college to be close to his younger brother, Sam. I'm trying to include a lot more detail than in my previous fanfics, so bear with me if this takes a while to update – it's going to be quite hard to write, especially as I know literally nothing about either art or mechanics! Still, I hope you enjoy it, and please review with what you think so I know how I'm doing
Castiel sighed as he lifted his paint brush and dipped it into the cleaning fluid, swirling it a few times to get rid of any remaining residue. He frowned slightly, his eyes glancing over the landscape he was painting, before gazing down at the photograph he was basing his picture on. He paused for a moment, before smiling and setting the brush down, picking up a finer one and selecting the appropriate paint colour. With a gentle touch, he started to apply small strokes of paint, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip in concentration. He had to get this right.
Castiel loved art. He loved the way that you could start with a simple, blank canvas and turn it into a swirling mass of shape and colour, a perfect depiction of whatever place or emotion you wanted. He liked picking up a block of clay and creating a perfect miniature person, or digitally manipulating photographs until they showed some kind of dystopian wonderland. His teachers had always asked Castiel to try and focus on one thing, one aspect of art, yet he couldn't – he lived and breathed the wonderful variety that various art forms could bring.
Satisfied with his work, Castiel quickly cleaned the brush and sat back to look over the painting. The image was fairly ordinary – a cloudy sky rolling over the green hills of the English countryside – but every detail was catalogued with the greatest precision, from the few cows grazing in the paddock at the bottom to the unevenly trimmed hedgerow just below the clouds. It was a view Castiel had had the other day while walking in front of the Drama Academy, and he had instantly known he had to paint it. Most people would just have brushed it off as another dull day, but he had always seen the beauty in these things – and it was a nice contrast to the wire dragonfly sculpture he had made as his last project.
Noticing that everyone else was packing away, Castiel stood up and stretched out his stiff limbs, before starting to gather together his things. It was amazing how time could fly when he got really into his work – he sometimes didn't notice if several hours had passed, and on one memorable occasion he had been so engrossed that he hadn't realised art lessons were over for the day until three hours after class ended, when the teacher had come back in to check the clay ovens. She had seemed shocked that no-one else had bothered to tell him to leave – but then, Castiel had always been quite contented to meld into the background here. He had worked hard enough to get the scholarship, so now that he was here he had much more important things to do than make friends.
"Eh hem," The teacher at the front, Miss Moore, cleared her throat and smiled, and Castiel stopped, realising everyone else had stopped packing away to listen.
"For the past few weeks I've allowed you to work on your own individual projects during my lessons, but as of tomorrow I have decided that we are going to start a class project on portraits, as none of you seem to favour portraits when given the choice. I have selected a few volunteers from our partner academies and the local college, and next lesson they will be coming in to pose for you. You will have to bring a camera as they are only able to pose for one lesson as they are obviously busy with their own work, so you will need to work from photographs and memory. How does that sound?"
Castiel felt a small smile flick across his face. It would be nice to try portraits again – he hadn't attempted one in a while due to his inability to find a subject, so this would be a nice chance for him to try some new techniques. Of course, now he had to decide what medium to do his portrait in – watercolour, charcoal, pencil, or anything else – and what sort of poses he wanted. This certainly gave him something to think about tonight while the others were out socialising.
Continuing to go over his options, Castiel resumed his packing away and placed all his paints and brushed back in his shoulder bag, before pulling his trenchcoat off the back of his chair and putting it on. Very carefully, he lifted the easel with the painting he had just completed on over to the side of the room, walking slowly to ensure none of the paint was smudged. Once it was in the right place, he turned back and picked up his schoolbag, nodding to Miss Moore who was waiting in the doorway for him to leave. Like always, he was the last person there. Putting his hands in his pockets, he walked over to the door.
"That was a lovely painting, Castiel. I loved the brushwork you used on the tree in the bottom left corner. Are you looking forward to moving on to portraits?" Mrs Moore always seemed to make an effort to talk to Castiel – she had probably noticed that he didn't really socialise with anyone else.
"Thank-you, Miss Moore. I do enjoy working on portraits, however I tend to struggle to find an appropriate subject –there are not very many people who are willing to pose for me. This should be a highly enjoyable exercise, and it will allow me to see what I need to improve on in that genre." Castiel's reply was polite, as always, but emotionless.
"Please, call me Jess – Miss Moore makes me feel old. Can you not do any portraits of your friends or family? I'm sure you must have some pictures of them somewhere that you could use." She smiled encouragingly at Castiel, and he almost sighed at her patronising attitude – he didn't need to be treated differently just because he chose not to socialise or have friends.
"I don't have friends," He stated simply, "And my family does not wish to associate with me any more. They disliked my decision to pursue a career in art – they do not believe it is a proper subject. The only family member I am still in contact with is my brother Gabriel, and I do not have any pictures of him. They are unnecessary."
Miss Moore's eyebrows shot up in concern. "That's dreadful!"
Castiel shrugged, saying nothing. It had hurt a lot when his family announced that he would no longer be welcome if he decided to accept his Art Academy scholarship, but they had never been a particularly close family, and the only family member he really cared about had already left home. He did his best not to think about the rest of his family, and while he did miss them, he was glad that he had made the decision to ignore their threats and accept the scholarship.
"I can't believe that you have no friends. I'm sure that if you talked to the other people in the class you would quickly make friends, they're a very lovely group." Miss Moore seemed overly concerned with Castiel's accepting attitude to his solitary existence.
"I'm sure they're all perfectly nice, however I see no need to talk to them. I have come here to work and learn, not to make friends." Castiel summarised his attitude as if it was perfectly normal, dismissing the suggestion.
By this time, the two had reached the doors leading out of the building, and Castiel turned and gave a slight smile to his teacher.
"If you'll excuse me, I have to go and prepare for tomorrow's project."
Miss Moore gave a warm and gentle smile, placing one hand on Castiel's shoulder. He frowned down at it.
"Of course. I'll see you in lesson's tomorrow, Castiel." She gave his shoulder a slight comforting squeeze before walking away.
Castiel blinked slightly in confusion at her actions, before heading out of the doors towards his rooms. Sometimes people could act very strangely, and he didn't understand how no-one could accept how he felt no need to spend time around others. In his eyes, it shouldn't be that difficult to comprehend.
This chapter is basically just setting the scene (yes, in this fic Jess is alive, and she may be dating Sam... I haven't decided yet. I ship Sam with too many different characters!) so what did you think? Please write a review, and I'll try and write the next chapter (probably in Dean's POV) as soon as possible! Thank-you