from august to december

chapter twenty three

the sun. it was something warm, light and shiny. at least from afar, because once you got close,
it would immediately burn you to death, frying you with no mercy and ignoring the horrible screams leaving your throat.

that's what it felt like for eden when yuri walked away.
he felt like he had excitedly gotten too close to it, not knowing the consequences of wanting to experience the light just a little nearer.

and that was the death of him.
it wasn't like the sun was gone, it was just suddenly not good anymore like how he used to see it.
it felt too hot, it made him sweat to much, it blinded him wherever he wanted to go.

it was bright, way too bright.
sending light onto things he would rather want to hide.

yuri stood awkwardly in his old studio, rummaging through his crooked wooden shelves where all of the old paintings were stored.
somehow, the whole room was crooked, from the desk to the little chandelier that hung gracefully from the ceiling.

suddenly, the dark haired turned around.
his hair was in a little bun to prevent the strands from falling into his face.
the hairdo looked amazing on him.

and probably only on him.

eden wore a flowered blouse, his black hair was combed neatly on his head and he looked like an angel.
or a fairy.
maybe something in between.
a fairy working for the angels.

yuri tried to study the other's face as calmly as possible.

"okay, i got it," he said excitedly and clapping his hands together, then he did a little spin to fish out a relatively small canvas from the top shelf.

"is that a canvas? what are we doing?" eden asked, furrowing his brows and crossing his hands in front of his chest, the blouse clung to his chest.

yuri tried not to look at it.
how it hugged the others waist perfectly.

"oh, i'm sure you already understand," the other answered and coughed softly, before nearly sprinting around the room, taking brushes and paints from here and there.

then he sighed as he plopped into his desk chair, nodding to indicate eden to finally move away from the door and come closer to him.

however, the black haired hesitated, he still wasn't quite sure about the whole thing.

"i'm painting you."

yuri's voice was low, calm.
it made eden's rage disappear completely for a second.
that was the himato effect.
and the black haired hated it that the effect worked so greatly on him.

the younger circled his shoulders.

"i don't want to be painted by you," eden responded, because he tried to hide the fact he wanted to be drawn again.

especially from yuri, hearing the gentle pencil strokes on the canvas, laughing with him during the process and yuri continuously telling him he looked gorgeous.

it meant more to him to hear it from his mouth than from anybody else, probably.
but he couldn't let this slide, it still felt too heavy on his chest.