Adrien's POV

The painting class hadn't been all that bad. Today may have only been an introduction to the class with the professor showing us our class syllabus and whatnot, she seemed like a nice person and so it lowered my anxiety a little. Plus, now having Luka, someone to talk to during the class, made me feel less alone.

After class, Luka asked me if I wanted to go for lunch with him at one of the dining halls, and I said yes. We walked out of the building together and headed to one of the nearby coffee shops on campus. When we got there, Luka opened the door for me, and I thanked him with a smile before stepping inside the coffee shop, instantly being hit with the smell of coffee and pastries.

"What are you thinking of getting?" Luka asked, standing next to me as we waited in line for the cash register. Luka was a lot taller than I was, standing around six feet, and compared to my 5'7, I had to look up at him when I spoke. He smelt good too—his cologne smelt aromantic, clean and airy with a mix of floral and wood scents. It smelt expensive but it was nice.

"Uhm, I'm kind of thinking of a white mocha frappe," I said, shrugging as I looked up at the menu board, "maybe even a grilled cheese and a muffin."

Luka hummed and nodded. When it was our turn to order, I asked for said frappe, a grilled cheese, and a blueberry muffin, while Luka got a lunch wrap and a regular coffee. He paid for both of our orders despite me telling him that I could pay for myself, but I thanked him anyway.

After receiving our order, Luka and I sat down in an empty booth against a window. He sat across from me, and I watched as he unwrapped his lunch wrap before I briefly turned my gaze to the window, and took a sip of my frappe.

"So," Luka started, making me glance back over to him, "what made you start drawing and painting?"

I hummed slightly, unwrapping my grilled cheese, "It was my sixth birthday. Mom bought me an art set, and I instantly fell in love with it. I started to draw every day, and as I got older, I started to get into painting, and looking at art videos online."

"So you've been drawing for a long time huh? That's really impressive," Luka smiled, "you'll have to show me some of your art pieces sometime."

"Yeah, twelve years pretty much," I laughed, returning the smile, "and I would love to show you my art. Though...I'm a little insecure about them."

Luka raised a brow, "insecure? Why's that?"

"I don't know, my friends tell me I'm good but I just can't help but think otherwise," I shrugged, picking up my grilled cheese and taking a bite out of it.

"Yeah, I understand that," Luka nodded, "sometimes I look at my art and think that it's not good enough. But as they say, we are our own worst critics. We judge ourselves too hard."

I smiled softly at that, nodding my head, "yeah...you're right. When did you start drawing and painting?"

Luka chuckled softly, "well, I certainly wasn't as young as you were. I was roughly twelve when I started. I was going through a tough time, and I was referred to an art therapist. That was when I realized how much I enjoyed art, and how much it helped me cope with my problems, so I just kept doing it. Art is just...nice, you know? It's calming."

"Yeah...it really is."

It really was. Art was peaceful. It was therapeutic. It kept my mind busy, let me pour out what remained stuck in my head. And I think that was why my mom bought me my first art set when I was six. It had been a year after we left my biological dad because he had been verbally and emotionally abusive to me and my mom. And even though I was only five when it happened, and the memories were blurry, I did remember some things, and they weren't pretty memories. But it was hard to fathom what happened at that age, and using art to draw out my confused emotions kept me from bottling it up for too long.

Art was the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't know what I would do without it. It was such a passion. I would die without it. If there came a time where I could never paint again, I don't know what I would do with myself.

I couldn't picture a life without art.

Luka and I talked for two hours. It went by so fast. We sat in the coffee shop talking, talking about art, about school, about life, and about art again. It was so nice to have someone to talk to about art who had the same passion for it as I did. It was refreshing.

Back in high school, I didn't have anyone to talk to about it. About how it made me feel. Preston knew what it was like to an extent because he was a musician and music made him feel the same way as art did for me. But to talk about art specifically to someone else, and have them understand? It was amazing.

"We have to do this again," Luka mentioned as we walked out of the coffee shop, and into the warm outdoors. I looked up at him, a bright smile on my face.

"Yeah, I agree. I had a lot of fun talking with you, Luka."

Luka smiled softly, nodding his head, "me too, Adrien."

We exchanged phone numbers, and with that, Luka waved me goodbye before he headed off to his next class. I watched him go, staring longingly until he was out of sight, and then started walking in the opposite direction.

I'm glad I decided to give art school a go.