asdfghjkl; I finished The Last Guardian today (FINALLY got the book ._.) and now I'm severely depressed. :(

Picture it.

The glowering sun spreads rays of warmth throughout the expansive, neat room. A lithe-looking lady balances gracefully on a three-legged stool. She holds an art palette, bursting with colors, in one hand, and daintily fingers a thin paintbrush in another. A languid smile graces her charming features as she raises her arm and makes a lazy stroke onto the canvas in front of her.

Now take out the cleanliness of the room and the stool. Also all those adjectives that were synonyms of elegant. Turn the smile upside-down, and completely disregard the words "lazy stroke."

Wonderful. You now know the general gist of what the scene looked like.

Holly stood impatiently in front of an unpleasant looking canvas, one hand clutching an art palette that was quite literally bursting with rather distasteful colors, the other gripping a paint-sprayed paintbrush.

Artemis, being unaccustomed to standing for long periods of time, had taken the three-legged stool. He was the one with the languid smile as he watched Holly's face go from various degrees of frustration. He half-expected her to burst out crying.

The room was a mess, all objects in disarray, which was quite an accomplishment considering Holly had only moved a maximum of three steps in each direction since she had entered the room. How she had managed to disturb objects way beyond her reach, Artemis did not know.

Holly had arrived nearly an hour ago, when Artemis had been painting.

"Hey, Arty," she had called, in an unusually chipper tone.

This had annoyed Artemis a little, as he did not like being disturbed whilst demonstrating his artistic abilities. He had attempted to shush her, telling her that he was busy and that if she wanted to make herself useful, she could go get a glass of water from Butler. "Make sure there's a slice of lemon in there," he instructed carefully, never taking his eyes of the canvas.

For obvious reasons, this had aggravated Holly. She did not show the slightest sign of getting his water as she frowned and crossed her arms. "So I go through all the trouble of paying you a visit, and you disregard it like your painting is more important? It's just a painting, for Frond's sake."

Artemis had finally turned from his art. "Just a painting? Holly, this is a complex re-creation of one of Da Vinci's most complicated works. It requires my full attention."

"... You're painting a naked woman."

Artemis had instantly bridled. "This naked woman, as you so vulgarly stated,is one of Da Vinci's most accomplished pieces."

Holly had scoffed. "Lovely. I don't care. Even I can draw, it's not that hard."

"Really now?" Artemis had lifted one delicate eyebrow. "Well, go ahead. There's paper and pencils on the desk."

Five minutes later, Holly returned and showed him a crinkled piece of paper.

Artemis's eyes had widened. "What is that?"

Holly had looked a little injured. "It's a swear toad."

Artemis had let out an extremely undignified snort, before quickly covering it up with a fake cough. "What's wrong with its eyes? And the arms? And the mouth? It looks like two balls smashed together with random lines sticking out." He had sighed, covering his eyes. "Take it away. It is an abomination to my eyes. You need to learn how to draw. Properly."

So that is how Holly came to be the one standing in front of a chaotic-looking canvas, scowling with hatred at the damned thing.

"This is an absolute waste of time," she growled, slamming down the paintbrush. Artemis winced at the harm inflicted on his property. He made a mental note not to let Holly handle his more delicate contraptions. Holly turned around, glaring. "I'm done with this."

Artemis slid off his stool, strolling over to the disastrous painting. "Maybe if you actually focused on drawing something, you'd get somewhere. I'm certain that you are competent in the artistic department. You just need a little nudge in the right direction." He examined the series of random lines and dots that Holly had made. "Perhaps..." Caught in his train of thought, he absent-mindedly placed his hand over hers, and led her hand into drawing a couple stray lines on the canvas that somehow made the painting look more uniform.

Holly instantly became aware of their proximity. He was standing directly behind her, and could have easily hugged her if he wanted. Their bodies were slightly touching. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she froze, breath catching in her throat. Artemis felt her tense, and abruptly withdrew from his thoughts. He fluidly removed his hand from hers, not seeming very fazed.

"Right," he said smoothly. "That looks a bit better, I suppose."

Holly coughed. "I suppose."

Artemis seemed to not realize Holly's awkwardness as he surveyed the painting again. "You know, Holly. On second thought, you are severely lacking in the artistic department."

"... Shut up, Artemis."

Eh. Didn't really like this one. And the ending is kinda choppy, I know that.

Opinions, anyone?