The next morning, you decided to paint the sunrise.
You're currently standing at your front porch with a canvas laid out in front of you, a paint set laid out and your brush in your hand as you place the end of the brush against your chin.
Squinting one eye, you try to figure out the right colors to mix to be able to accurately represent one of the shades of the sunrise.
The sky is a reddish, orange hue, one that isn't a primary color found in your palette. You stick your tongue out against the side of your mouth as you move the brush away from your face.
Grabbing your mixing palette, you start to grab the orange, red, and some hints of the yellow and test out different amounts of each to give you the right shade.
While you're doing this, you hear the sound of music beginning to play from one of the houses in the neighborhood. This causes you to furrow your eyebrows as you look down at your phone.
It's only 6:13 in the morning... guess I'm not the only early bird in this neighborhood.
You look to your left, trying to figure out where the source of noise is coming from.
To your surprise, you think the music is coming from Jimin's home.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to get a glimpse into his window from your porch but fail. Shaking your head, you start to look back at the sun as you start making light strokes of the paintbrush bristles onto the canvas. The soft strokes slowly start to build the color onto the blank canvas, accentuating your love for warm toned shades.
When you're about to make a precise line on the canvas, you hear the sound of someone loudly yelling, causing you to flinch.
There goes my sunrise.
The circular shape of the yellow sun now has a streak of red flowing through the middle of it.
Sighing, you place the paintbrush down before making your way towards your home once more, leaving the now ruined canvas on the porch. Entering your kitchen, you begin washing your hands from the different paint colors splattered all over your hands as you examine Jimin's home.
While lathering your hands with soap, you get a glimpse of Jimin in his home. He's dancing to the music momentarily before turning his head to look at another figure in his home. You pause your movements as your heart drops to your stomach.
There's a pair of heels in Jimin's home, followed by a purse sitting on his coffee table. The woman isn't in view, but you know she's there.
He has a girl with him?
Jimin places his hands on his hips as he stares over at the other person in the room. Nodding his head, he slows down his movements and goes step-by-step as the other critiques his dancing. His shoulders slump as he nods his head again, starting to grow frustrated by his dancing. Kicking his foot forward, he allows his sneaker-covered feet to meet his couch.
As you watch, you press your lips together, rinsing your hands. You grab the towel near your sink and start to dry your hands while Jimin sits down on the floor, his back facing you as he buries his face in his hands.
Why isn't she helping him? He's struggling.
You lean forward to get a better view of him, which causes your nose to collide with the window once again, making a loud thud.
YOU ARE READING
Voyeurism - pjm
Fanfiction"In that case, you have two options. One: you don't get caught or two: you invite him to your party, seduce him, then tell him about your little kink to see if he'll play along with it." She said with a smirk on her face. "You never know, maybe he's...
