Artistic Differences

Zack was seen as she sat on the low branches of a sycamore, her legs dangling from it as she seemed to be intent on drawing the face of a young man that looked a bit like her. She seemed to be smiling as she added the last details, and the image came to life, flickering before her and then going back into the paper. She sighed softly. She could draw anything and make it come to life except for him.

She was clad in a flowing pink skirt that reached her knees, having black tight pants come from under them and reach her calves. Ballerina-like black shoes were upon her as well as a black loong sleeve shirt that showed her shoulders, a small locked being upon her.

Why can't you come back to life dammit?
She asked softly, almost inaudible to most as she cursed the small piece of paper, making the image of the male seem saddened, yet nothing else changed.

Zack looked down at him and moved her head to a side shyly.
It's not safe anywhere.
She said lightly.

Zackarie... Zack.
She said quietly. Zack just wasn't one that opened up to people easily nor was she one that some one could pry too much of a conversation off of her.

She sighed softly. She was horrible at this kind of things.
Uhm, what are you doing out here?
She asked quietly, blushing as she spoke.

Yeah, so peaceful.
She said with a small smile as she looked up for a second and then back down at him.

I would question you with the time but I'm guilty as well so too bad.
She said lightly, it seemed the time was starting to get to her for she normally wasn't that open.

My brother.
She said bluntly.

I can make things I draw come to life, but I can't make his image come to life.
She said slightly frustrated.