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• #ZEITO SHION SKIN#

I was surprised to find that he was already on his way, hurrying to leave the area before his ‘friend’ caught sight of him.

“Zatsune.” Zeito’s dark eyes darted from me, to the approaching recreation of Miku Hatsune – only darker. However, as I reached for it, he sharply flinched away. I moved a little, offering him a seat while I concealed the colour palate for my artwork. I lifted my sketch book’s tip, so the drawing was hidden against my chest. “Oh, you were? What’s wrong?” I inquired, tilting my head. I knew him as Zeito Shion, the guy I had a big crush on. “I was looking.” When my drawing subject spoke, I almost melted in happiness upon hearing his high-pitched voice.Įveryone knew my drawing subject to be Zeito Shion, the Shion brother with a high-pitched voice and a yo-yo. He started to walk towards me, holding something tightly in his hands and causing his already white knuckles to appear whiter than I believed possible. He looked enlightened by my acknowledgement, and waved back. I had only just begun to colour the black coat, when I noticed my drawing subject was currently watching me with a new-found curiosity. His hands were playing with a scarlet yo-yo, while he adjusted his scarf. He had silky black hair, concealing the right side of his face while he stared out of the drawing.

#ZEITO SHION SKIN#

He had, almost, white skin with tired bags sagging under his eyes, and shadows cast over the top of them. It was a young man, who wore a tattered black coat with a dirty red scarf. Once it was defined enough, the pencil was put aside and I began focusing on the main body of the picture. I thickened it slightly as I used my Yellow Ochre pencil to define the detail in the string, my mind drifting all the while. Poking my tongue out as I focused, I tenderly drew a thin, straight line to connect a delicately drawn hand to a coloured yo-yo drawing. Except the subject and inspiration for my drawings. The fact I could create a picture with just my imagination, was enough to make me lose sight of all other things.

I spent hours upon hours staring at my pencil as it grazed the paper and left trails of leaden drawings. Recently, my sketch book had become the world’s most valuable item to me.