VII

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luke remembers the first time he painted michael.
his hand couldn't stop shaking.
it was michael, for gods sakes, he didn't want him to think he was weird.
michael didn't actually know, and luke didn't exactly want him to find out.
he painted those pretty green eyes from memory.
and his pastel blue hair from physical memory, from all the times he's run his fingers through it.
michael's beautiful features were burned into his memory, and soon he wasn't nervous anymore, getting carried away by the paint brush.
michael remembers the time he found luke's painting of him.
he could tell luke never intended for him to know, so he reassured him it was okay.
and it was.
the painting was stunning.
michael could barely describe the feeling it gave him.
but one thing he knew was it made him feel loved.
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