𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖱𝖾:𝖯𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍 | 𝖢𝗁𝗈𝗂 𝖡𝖾𝗈𝗆𝗀𝗒𝗎

08 : 𝖨𝗌 𝖨𝗍 𝖤𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁?

Clang!

I turned my head to the source of the sound. I spotted Beomgyu in the living room, sitting on the couch, back facing me. There was a canvas in front of him and he was dragging a paintbrush all over the surface. I didn't know what he was trying to make; but judging from the fallen cans of paint and mediums, I bet he was serious and dedicated.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound of my footsteps were oddly loud against the floor tonight. It might be because none of us were speaking, but to me, it felt uncomfortable.

Beomgyu didn't seem to hear me as he didn't turn. He kept going; dipping the brush in dirty water, swirling it around a color, and then gliding it across the fabric. I took a closer look.

It was a portrait of a woman. It looked messy, drips of acrylic and smudges everywhere, as if he was depicting a rough expressionism with a hint of abstract. He painted flowers on random spots over the girl's face. There were blue and white feathers around too. It was a marvelous contrast, considering that the background was black.

"Uh.." I squinted my eyes. "..isn't that me..?"

The more his subject came to life, the more I learned that the features resembled my own. Her hair, her face.. He was painting me.

"It couldn't be.." I whispered. "..oh, you just don't assume everything's about you, Y/N.."

Slightly embarrassed, I walked myself to the guest room. Maybe I needed sleep. I've been thinking way too much.

As I laid down, my eyes caught the silver angel figurine staring down at me from the top of the dresser. I turned away, uninterested.

I don't have time for that.

[Beomgyu's POV]

Thud!

I heard a door slam shut, highly from Y/N's room. I smiled to myself. I just felt her standing behind me a moment ago. I didn't notice that she already left.

I knew she was watching me and I didn't mind. I didn't want to turn and confront her about it, thinking it might scare or shame her away.

"Ah.." I tiredly exhaled. "Two weeks, buckaroo.. Two weeks being artless, couldn't believe I lived off of that.."

To be fair, before, I'd feel like losing my mind if I didn't dare to pick up a brush or a pencil within a day. Now that I've survived without for so long, I was surprised. I thought I'd be in pain or that my conscience would kick in. But learning that I've done better things during the absence of art, I felt comforted and confident.

"Maybe.. Maybe Y/N was right.." I sucked on my teeth. "Redirecting myself to something else could ease my burden.. Yeah.."

I took the idea as a break from the suffocating passion. I figured, if I didn't let Y/N stay with me, God knows what would I've been doing today.

She was.. How do I say it..?

A miracle. Just when I was about to end everything, she showed up and now she's my light in the dark. Cringeworthy as it may seem, but I'm deeply grateful that she came around. Never have I thought about reliving my childhood, feeling the wonderful nostalgia, and see things beautifully before.

"What an angel," I fondly chuckled, shaking my head. "That's what you are, Y/N. An angel."

I kept going with my business. Funny how Y/N guessed it right; I was painting her.

Why?

Why not?

After all, she was the reason why I felt like making art tonight. As she was in my balcony, I set up in the living room, shooting occasional glances at her so I could somehow get her features right. She's dazzling. I've never felt so calm. Usually, I'd fret because I wanted to get things right, especially the subject. But when painting her, I just wanted to enjoy the flow.

"She's amazing," I told myself. "Giving me such an impact in just two weeks. I wonder when she'll leave."

It struck me. I paused, paintbrush dotted still on the canvas. My mood plummeted down the second I thought about her leaving. Yes, she was only supposed to stay until she finds her own flat. But.. I've become attached.

I know it was such a fragile side of me. However, never in my life have I encountered a person who made me feel good in many ways— wholesome ways.

"Should I.. Should I ask her to stay longer..?" I dropped the brush. "..it wouldn't kill if she lingers a bit more, right..?"

I might need a lot of time adjusting once she's gone. There's still so much I haven't learned about her, but for me, it didn't matter. I trust her. She felt as if she were a safe place. I don't know where else I could find a person who'll stand by me the way she does.

I couldn't deny.

I'm happier and better with her.