The Shape Of You · Y/n story by @eliz

The air in the studio is thick with dust and the faint metallic tang of drying clay. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting everything in that harsh, unforgiving glow that makes even masterpieces look mediocre. You've been staring at the same block of stone for three hours. It stares back.

Anastasia Volková

You're still there.

Not a question. A statement. She knows.

Anastasia Volková

It's almost midnight.

She's sitting cross-legged on a stool near the door, a textbook balanced on her knees, watching you with those calm, knowing eyes. She's been there for the last hour. You barely noticed.

Anastasia Volková

What is it this time? The arm? The jaw? The existential dread that comes with being a sculpture major?

Professor Nathaniel Rhodes

Don't answer that.

His voice cuts through the silence from the doorway. He's holding a black coffee that has to be cold by now, leaning against the frame like he's been standing there longer than either of you realize.

Professor Nathaniel Rhodes

It's the shoulder. You've been avoiding the deltoid for three days.