When he is the artist and calls you his favorite painting @inkkoya
You and Sunghoon had decided to spend the night in, you had a stressful day and so did he and the only thing that could keep the both of you sane was holding each other.
Sane in his colorful world. Sane in a world where he holds his brush and paints a way to run away from this world, his paints were the only way for him to get out- feel free.
His work had kept him off lately, painting and inking his heart out on his portrait- sometimes he would stay one whole day straight in his art room without eating- starving himself. Sometimes even more and when he comes out from his room- dark bags always welcomed your sight with a tired body of his making your heart break into pieces- you didn't like that side of him. It was hectic for him.
You wonder sometimes if the artist's life should be this tough to live.
When people hear the word artist- their minds run miles around beautiful ideas and feelings. What they don't know- is how they make a piece of art- how they try to make their hearts talk and transform the words to colors.
What amazed you the most was how he is a healer of himself and of others, for this is both the how and why humanity evolved such gifts.
Now you were holding him- melting between his arms. In this moment you laid by Sunghoon’s side watching Alice in borderland with him.
Although right now he was intrigued with You, as you traced the small patterns onto his hands that rested on your waist.
It's been one year for you together- and you just feel like you spent your whole life with him.
When you notice how he looks at you- “It’s rude to stare you know.” You told him as his face flushed with a soft pink.
“I wasn’t staring, I was just admiring the view.” He told you which caused a small giggle to escape your mouth.
“Am I a painting to admire?” You told him to sit upright.
"You are not?" He asked instead.
"I don't know"
He let out a laugh before continuing. “you are my painting- my piece of art.” He said as his hand came and gazed at your soft cheek.
Whenever he wanted to kiss you or show any form of affection he always got nervous, even after months of dating he would get nervous.
He was always afraid of messing up, especially around you. You were his solid rock and he loved you so much and wanted to keep you safe.
“Can I kiss you?” He blurted out. You were not shocked because most of the time he was scared to kiss you sometimes because he thought he would hurt you.
“You don’t have to ask.” You told him to grab his face and bring it to yours.
You both sat there for a few minutes until you felt Sunghoon smile on your lips.
You opened your eyes to see Sunghoon’s staring at you and played kisses all over your face which caused you to smile.
“I love you,” He came back to your Lips and kissed you gently.
“How am I so lucky?” He asked resting his forehead on yours still keeping a hold on your cheeks.
“I am lucky too to have you Sunghoon." You said.
You smiled softly and watched him get nervous all over again.
“Everytime I look at you it’s like the first day we met.” He looked back up.
“Glad to know you feel the same.”
You came back down to lay on his lap for him to play with your hair.
"I still feel butterflies in my stomach- I don't know if it is weird or not? Do you feel them too?" He asked.
"I feel like my heart wants to run away whenever I see you Sunghoon." You said.
"Then suppose It's the same feeling y/n."
"You’re so beautiful.” he murmured against your skin.
And then he was pressing delicate kisses to your neck and completely and utterly wrecking you.
You hadn’t meant to lose yourself to him, hadn’t meant to lose your sanity when he kissed you like that.
But it seemed a completely normal thing to happen in response to his devilish lips pressed against your skin.
So when you peered over at him, both of your breaths shallow as you tried to draw in air, you let out a giggle and hid your face in the pillows behind your head.
Sunghoon just glanced over at you and pulled out a smile, running a hand down through your messy hair, smoothing it down your back and then playing with the loose strands that settled in front of your face as you picked up your head.
He was being gentle with you and it meant absolutely everything.
From barely acquaintances, to best friends, to lovers.
You didn’t want anything to ruin this now.
“I love you.” he murmured, and then kissed your neck once more before laughing lightly and pulling away, your eyes closing in response.
You had not let many people know what kissing your neck did to you, and you had never imagined it could have caused something like this.
But even so, you felt closer to him now, and it didn’t look like he was going to use this information to his advantage.
It also wasn’t like he was some stranger, he was your boyfriend, and you knew that he loved you.
You loved him, too, as both a friend and a lover.
So you didn’t have any qualms in getting closer to him, letting him press you against his chest as he hugged you and kissed your forehead before wrapping you up in his arms, cradling you close.
“Love you, too.” you murmured softly before falling asleep on him.
A word
You can write into the air; you can speak upon a page. A painting can be a novel and a story can paint the perfect picture.
We humans dream.
We dream in deep metaphors and visual puns, then weave them into stories that speak to every level of our consciousness.
We speak with words but without words.
We speak in the language of dreams in the hope of life becoming ever more dreamy.
Artists are our natural anchors to all the things that make living so wonderful- and makes us escape the cell we are living in. These artists are born to lead everyone out- they are our only way out.
