Kicking off his shoes and haphazardly tossing his coat onto the couch, Jimi rushed towards his room with a book clutched tightly against his chest. Quickly taking a seat at his desk, he opened the book, nearly tearing up when he was met with blank white pages. Picking up one of the many pencils scattered on top of his desk, Jimi began to draw.

Recently, he had used up the final remaining page in his old sketchbook. While he was itching to get a new sketchbook immediately, his attention was drawn to more pressing matters, preventing him from going out to purchase a new book.

For one entire week, Jimi was unable to draw and it was truly the most excruciating week of his life. By the end of the week, he had barely held himself from unleashing his frustrations onto whatever surface he could reach, preventing his home from being covered in paint, oil pastels, color pencils, and more.

As soon as he could, Jimi ran to the nearest bookstore which just happened to be the one that had opened up on his street recently.

Once he entered the building, the itching desire to draw was replaced by awe.

Dimly lit, the bookstore was practically bursting to the brim with books. The tall, dark oak bookshelves and soft light created a homely atmosphere that was further accentuated by the groups of cushions that sat on the floor to provide the customers a comfortable place to sit while they browsed through a book. Jimi took his time wandering through the store. He was naturally drawn to the section displaying art supplies, getting lost in testing and adding new supplies to his shopping list for the future.

Just as he was pursuing the store’s selection of sketchbooks, Jimi felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning to greet the employee that had tapped him, Jimi was introduced to a sketchbook unlike any of the others on the shelf. Despite the sketchbook’s age showing through its worn edges, the pages of the book were all still blank, pristine as if the book had just been plucked off the printing press.

One glance at the sketchbook renewed the intense itch Jimi had to draw, and purchased the book right then and there. Thanking the employee, Jimi rushed home.

Immersing himself in drawing, Jimi finally pulled away from the sketchbook hours later. Leaning back into a stretch with a satisfied smile on his face, a glance out his window told him it was time for bed. Leaving the sketchbook open on his desk, Jimi went to bed, dreaming of what he would draw tomorrow.

The next day, Jimi was awoken by the sunlight filtering into his room. Sitting up, he turned towards the window, freezing when a familiar figure greeted him.

There you stood in front of the light, the very character he had inked onto the page yesterday.

“{{user}}?!”