Dark Reflections | Wednesday X Male Reader

The Artist.

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Y/N's POV

Xavier had taken me to his art shed.

The questioning has gone entirely nowhere.

And now all I'm thinking about is how this shed used to be my father's. As well as how there used to be a dead body in here.

Currently, Xavier was painting on a canvas that was on an easel leaning against one of the tables. Though, honestly, it looked like he was just throwing paint everywhere.

I was at another easel over to the side.

Actually using a brush correctly, unlike him.

Eventually, he lets out a relaxed sigh and asks me, "Isn't this cathartic?"

I just shrug, "I guess so?"

He stops painting and looks over at me.

"You guess so?," he questions with a smile, "Music isn't the only way to relax, you know."

"No, but it is the better way, Thorpe."

"For you maybe. But not everyone can play multiple instruments and sing," he says, before telling me, "I was able to hear you singing over the chaos at the Rave'N. It was good."

"It was alright," I corrected.

He shakes his head lightly, "You enjoy belittling yourself, don't you? What have you painted anyways?"

Xavier steps over toward me and around the easel to get a look at it. And the moment he looks at it, he appears a little disappointed.

I painted the wall that was on the other side of the room. Which also meant I recreated the paintings and drawings he had hanging up on it.

I captured it exactly as it was.

"It's.. Don't get me wrong, It's extremely good. It's just that it's.. You just recreated reality," Xavier says.

"You have nothing else in here to paint," I reply.

"Y/N, Painting isn't about recreating the world. It's about interpreting it. Art in its basest form is about interpretation and expression. Either improving reality or creating something beautiful from scratch. It's more raw when it's something you feel rather than just something you see," he tells me.

I just stare at him partially confused, "Don't you paint your dreams?"

"Ah, but I don't recreate them exactly as they are. I capture them on the canvas in the unique way I view it."

"You're speaking, but all I'm hearing is gibberish," I tell him.

Xavier merely chuckles to himself before taking the canvas off the easel and picking up an empty one and placing it in its place.

He then says, "Okay, I want you to do a couple things for me right now. First off, close your eyes."

"Why?"