Cold

Lucian was taken aback for a moment with the boy's forwardness, something she hadn't picked up that he was quite capable of. She thought it nice though, to finally stop beating around the imaginary bush they both were so desperately clinging to, and nodded, coming to let herself sit by him. She could feel his nervousness radiating off of him, and despite the fact that she typically would have found this to be humorous and silly, she found it now to be endearing.
"Show me how to make art?" She questioned, placing her pointed chin into the palm of her hand, raising an eyebrow and looking confusedly at him. "No offense, but I don't believe art is something one can just learn. I've always thought it was a talent you must be born with."
She shrugged, inviting herself to look over some of his supplies, even picking some of them up and twirling them around her fingers, before nodding. "Very well then. If you believe you can show me, get on with it."
She smirked and watched the boy carefully with her piercing eyes, trying to put him together. She hadn't made any true friends here at Hogwarts yet, only acquaintances and those she thought could be useful to her in later years. However, something about his gentle mannerisms and nervous energy intrigued her beyond just usefulness. She found herself enjoying his company.

"Art is something anybody can do. But why most people consider art to be impossible to learn is because they want to assume another artist's style. Art is about learning your own style and letting it change." Colin may have stuttered through the entire three grueling sentences, but he had managed to get it all out.

When Colin had first started painting and drawing he too had thought that art couldn't be taught. But his aunt had proven him wrong quickly by teaching him how. She had started by putting her hand over his and drawing simple items. This lets the muscles in his hand learn the basic strokes. After that, his learning process was just a blur. But he figured as long as he remembered how his aunt had taught him, he could teach Lucian the same way.

"So, first. I need you to hold the charcoal and the drawing pad." She quickly did what he asked and sat there waiting for more instructions. He put his hand over hers and scooched closer to her so their shoulders were touching. After that, he gently moved her hand around the page and filled it with strokes. In the end, the drawing was of the Scottish countryside where he had used to live.

"See, you can learn how to draw."

Lucian sat there as he spoke, doing what he told her, when suddenly he was moving closer to her and touching her hand. She was acutely aware of his skin on her's, and of the exact place where their shoulders brushed, and her mind began to race. She tried her best to focus on the lines he so effortlessly put down onto the paper, but she couldn't concentrate.
She kept trying to move herself carefully further away from him, at least so that their only point of contact was their fingertips, but she was overly aware of him continuously moving closer in order to see the pad. Breathing became a chore, her heart rate accelerated, and her vision began to leave her. She continued to force herself to keep a small smile planted on her face, and manually regulated her breathing, as he began to finish the sketch.
When he was done, Lucian smirked, slowly pulling her hand away and standing up, pretending to get a better view from above. She still was having trouble collecting her thoughts, stuttering quickly, "It- it's beautiful," before clasping her hands tightly in front of her, finding her skin to be cold. She'd never been this way with touch before; she'd never been overly fond of it, but her siblings had always pushed her around and wrapped her in tight group hugs. There was nothing different here, just a boy teaching her how to draw. So why was she suddenly so nervous?

Colin looked at Lucian as she stood up, his hand already missing the warmth of her hand on his. He wondered why she had stood up, but decided not to ask. He honestly felt rather nervous, he'd never had a friend before.

Finally shaking himself out of his thoughts he replied, "Yeah, you, er, we drew something really beautiful. Do you want to hang it in your dorm room? I know that my dorm mates wouldn't really want it there." Surprisingly he had begun to stutter less when he talked to her. It was a miracle.

Colin stood up after he asked the question and offered the paper to her. He even began to think of giving her the charcoal sketch he had made earlier. After all, what was a drawing of beautiful view worth if you couldn't share it. At least that what he had been taught that talents were used for. He'd been told that talents were used to help others and bring smiles to faces. They weren't meant to be hoarded and kept to one's self.

"Er, do you want my charcoal sketch too? I know that it's not very good, but I figured that you might like it anyway." He pulled that paper out of his bag and offered it to her as well."Would you like to draw some more?"

He cringed at the question and waited for an answer.