All The Colors Of You || Bang Chan

Chapter Fifteen - Perrie

It's shortly after nine at night when Chan texts me again.
I'm sitting on the balcony of my workshop, filling my sketchbook with faces.
Or rather, one face.
His face.
I couldn't get my mind off him all day.

I'm here

Door's open. Balcony.

Two minutes later, I hear the door to the atelier opening. Soft footsteps on the floor, shuffling of clothes.
I turn to look at the doorway as he appears in it.
He's wearing shorts and a black t-shirt. A baseball cap sits on his head.
He smiles softly.
"Hi," he says.
I try to stay strong, give him a bit of a cold shoulder. But I can't fight my own body, and it's working against me.
I smile immediately as I hear his voice.
"Hi," I answer.

He steps through the doorway and pulls forth his hand behind his back as he sits down next to me.
He's holding a small bouquet of flowers. A beautiful arrangement of baby's breath, pale pink carnations, and a few tufts of daisies.
"These are for you," he says as he holds the flowers out towards me, "I had to think about the way I left this morning and it didn't sit right with me. I just-.. I should have said goodbye properly instead of sneaking out while you slept, it wasn't right. I'm sorry."

I look at him, then at the flowers. I take them into my hand. It's a delicate arrangement, elegant and not too excessive. It's earnest and sincere.
Something inside me breaks open.
"Thank you," I answer then, "They're beautiful."
"Like you," Chan nudges my side with a wink, but I laugh surprised.
"Are we getting bolder, Mister Bahng?"
Chan shrugs with a boyish smile on his face.
He says, "I don't know, maybe I feel more confident when I'm with you."

I cradle the flowers as I reach for my sketchbook.
I open it to show him the pages I filled with his face.
"You should always be confident," I say in a low voice, "You're gorgeous. On the inside and the outside, really. I couldn't stop thinking about you all day, to be honest."
Chan freezes before he quietly takes the sketchbook into his hands and places it on his lap.
I watch as he traces the strong lines of his own graphite face.

"I don't-..." Chan shakes his head and sighs. "I don't look like that. You made me way prettier than I am, Perrie."
I turn towards him and loop my arm around his.
"You only think that because your brain is lying to you," I whisper, "I wish you could see yourself the way I do. I wish you knew-..."
I stop myself long enough to realize just how inappropriate my next words would have sounded, but Chan turns to look at me with one raised eyebrow.
"You wish I-... what?"
I swallow thickly.

There's a smile on his face, teasing and lighthearted. He probably knows what I was going to say but he wants to hear it.
I scrunch my nose and heat rushes to my cheeks but I hold his stare as I finally answer.
"I wish you knew how incredibly attractive you are and how much I want you."
Chan leans in and my eyes dip to his dimple for a moment, before I meet his eyes again.
He whispers, "You want me?"
It's too late to feel embarrassed now. It's too late to take it all back.
So I just bite my lip for a second and whisper my answer to him, "Yes, I do."

I can almost see his eyes darken in the dim light. The air I breathe is filled with him. His perfume is fresh and almost sweet. Like peppermint tea with honey.
He smiles and swallows, I bite my lip to hide a grin.
I lean in closer and our foreheads gently connect for a second.
I am still holding the flowers in my arm, but the other hand of mine finds the his arm.
I let my hand travel up his carved bicep to his shoulder, my fingertips catch on a loose thread of his shirt.

Chan raises a hand to push a strand of my hair behind my shoulder. He twirls the end around his finger.
He meets my eyes again.
"Can I kiss you?"
I hold my breath for a moment and smile. There is something so enticing about him asking this. So gentle, so respectful.
"Yes," I answer, "Yes, please do."

Our lips crash against each other. The flowers drop to the floor beside me as my hands find the sides of his face. His lips are soft, but his hands are hungry. He explores my body, drives his fingers up and down my sides.
I groan into the kiss as his hands land on my hips and he pulls me onto his lap.
The tips of our tongues sneak a taste of each other.
My legs cradle his, my arms wrap around his shoulders, I drive my fingers into his hair.
I've never been kissed like this before.

"Perrie," Chan whispers against my lips, "Perrie, Perrie, Perrie."
He repeats my name like a mantra, his voice rough and low.
"Oh, my God," he groans, "You taste like cherries."
I giggle.
"It's probably the candy I had before you came," I answer.
Both of us laugh, his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls my closer.
Chest to chest.

We were starving for each other before, but it boiled down to something else.
I still want him, I do. And I can feel he wants me, too.
But as I gently press my lips onto his again, I can feel us slowing down.
The bright flame, hot and blazing, is slowly simmering down to a steady ember.

We share another small kiss, before I kiss his nose, then both his cheeks.
Another kiss lands on his jaw and we laugh like teenagers.
"Wow," Chan sighs and hums. His chest vibrates and I can feel his heartbeat fast and strong. "That was-..."
I chuckle. My face fits perfectly on his shoulder, in the space by his neck.
"Marvelous," I suggest and his eyes glisten excitedly. "Just like you. You're a really good kisser."

"Oh, stop that," he laughs and starts moving his hands up and down my back. "You're making me blush."
"Good, I like when you do that." I sit up so I can look him in the face. I'm still on his lap, but it doesn't seem to bother him. "I like that I'm the reason for it. I don't usually have that effect on people as pretty as you."
"Stop calling me that," he closes his eyes and scrunches his whole face together. "You don't have to say that just to make me feel good."

"Why do you think that?" My hands fall from his shoulders to his chest. I can feel him shift until my hands lay on his stomach. "What makes you think you're not pretty?"
He looks away and I know I've hit a nerve.
He sighs and looks over my shoulder, trying to find the words.
"Hey," I try to make my voice sound as gentle as I can and place a hand on his jaw to turn his face back towards me. "Judgement free zone. If you don't want to talk about it, I respect that. But you can. If you want to."

His shoulders droop forward a little as if he's been defeated and his head pushes against my hand.
"I don't know," Chan says then, "Its not really a secret, and I've been to a doctor who told me it's all coming down to either genes or stress. Lack of sleep and all that. But like-.. my hair is really thin and it has a weird texture. I used to have really strong curls, now they're all just gone. I think my hair is falling out, too. That's why I wear so many hats. And I'm kinda skinny, I'd like to be a bit bigger. I'm not that tall, either. My face is weird, because my nose is really big. I don't know, it just doesn't really fit together."

Red creeps into the tips of his ears, it crawls up his neck and into his cheeks.
He takes a deep breath and I bend to pick up my sketchbook.
"What do you think about these sketches of you that I made?"
He meets my eyes and shrugs, confused.
"They're amazing. You're a really good artist, you know this."
I nod.
"Exactly," I say, "These pictures, these drawings... that's how the world sees you. I know it doesn't erase what you think about yourself, but maybe it helps a little bit. You are too hard on yourself, Chan. And you deserve to feel good about yourself. I'd like to help you."

He raises his eyebrows.
"How?"
I shrug. "I don't know yet, but I'd like to try. Would you want me to?"
"Yes," Chan smiled shyly, "If it means I get to do this a little longer."
He leans in and presses his lips against mine, much more innocently than before.
"Oh, I'd be delighted, Mister Bahng," I murmur against his lips and he smiles.
A real one this time.
"Happy to oblige, Miss Becket."