A/N: Tom McKenzie's aesthetics.

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Olivia's POV

With delicacy, I start to add some detail to my piece, mostly focusing on the sky.

Concentration encapsulates me, especially now that the other members of my art class are gone. I'm now by myself in my little bubble, just the way I like it.

As my brush strokes the canvas with the utmost precision, a voice almost messes me up and drags me out of myself.

"Stick your tongue out any more, Liv, and that beautiful painting of yours will be offended."

I whirl around to see Tom leaning against the doorframe to the workroom with a mischievous glint in his eye, and I glare at him.

"I was concentrating, Tom, and you almost made me slip. I ought to ignore you." I frown at my best friend, who just laughs off my attempt at being angry with him.

As he walks toward me, he shows me his phone as an indication of the time. "If you ignore me, then I guess my being here at 12 o'clock sharp is useless to you? That's fine, I'm going..."

He stalks off slowly, and I feel a wave of anxiety returning, much like it did this morning at the thought of him walking out. It reminds me of... no, he wouldn't do that.

"Wait!" I hear the desperation in my own voice. "I'm sorry, I'm just really stressed at the minute. Even though it's the first day back, I have this piece to hand in as soon as it's finished, my portfolio needs to be finished in the next few weeks, and when you walked off, I thought you were going to walk out on me like—"

A look of recognition registers on Tom's face, one of sadness, and he brings me into a warm hug.

"Hey, hey, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. No need to bring that up now. I'm here. What do you need me to do?"

I release myself from Tom and smile weakly at him, thankful that I have a friend as good as him. I turn back to my art and take a deep breath.

"So, remember that picture you took a couple of years ago when we went camping? The one with the house on the hill?"

He nods.

"Well, that was my inspiration for this piece. The reason why I've only done a bit of the sky is because I want that picture to be the primary focal point, so I'll have to put that in first. Have you, by any chance, still got that picture?"

Tom pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts scrolling through his photos like a madman on a mission. After a number of sighs of frustration, he finds the picture I'm looking for that he transferred from his camera to his phone. To say the picture is beautiful wouldn't be doing it enough justice.

Tom had set the camera up perfectly. He captured a lone farmhouse planted on top of a hill with nothing but rivers and valleys surrounding it. The sky blazed a multitude of colors; red, purple, pink, and pale blue were all prominent.

Even a couple of years later, that picture remains embedded in my memory, and being there when it was taken holds a special place in my heart. I'll never forget it.

"I know, there's just something about it, isn't there, Liv?" My admiration is met with Tom's pride, and it's clear he treasures this image, and rightfully so because it's beyond description.

"Would you mind if I painted it?" I chew the end of my paintbrush anxiously, knowing how protective he is over his work.

"It's just that my art teacher wants me to be more personal because she always criticizes me for being too predictable. This is out of my comfort zone. If you don't want me to, it's no problem, I can always find something else."

His genuine smile warms me, and I feel hopeful. "Of course you can, you know I don't mind sharing my work with you. We're a team; I take the pictures and you paint them, that's always how it's worked."

"Thank you," I say, and I mean it.

Just as I'm about to turn back to my painting, Tom speaks, "So anyway, I have rugby practice now, so I'm going to have to get going. Jacob, our coach, wants me to pick the first team selection for Friday's match. If you can get yourself there, I would love it if you could come, you know, friendly support and all that."

"I'll be there, don't you worry. I owe you one, McKenzie."

I turn back to my painting as Tom is leaving, and find the email he sent me of his picture on my iPad. I mix the colors exactly as they are in the photo, and paint them on, starting with the gorgeous hues of the sky.

I immerse myself in a world of calm the only way I know how, and channel the memories the picture brings onto my canvas. I'm well on my way when a huge crash of paint cans falls behind me, just missing my painting, followed by a black biking helmet rolling slowly to my side.

My heart flies to my mouth, and I stay rooted to the spot, not knowing what else to do, as someone walks into the room, picks up his helmet, and smirks at me.

"Did I miss your painting with my angry outburst? I'm sorry, I'll try harder next time to hit it, because guess what? I don't give a shit."

I instinctively lower my head as not to look at or speak to him, my self-conscious and 'normal' nature overtaking me once again.

The person in question stalks out with his helmet, and as I hear him giving attitude to a member of staff outside in the corridor, I realize that no matter how much art you do, it can't take away any of life's problems.

That includes the school's resident bad boy, Freddie Hutchinson.

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Author's Note: I hope you guys are enjoying it so far, and I hope I'm doing right by showing you an idea of what the characters look like! As always if you want more vote, comment and follow!