Plot: model Namjoon and vulgar weird artist Taehyung
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Tick
Tock
Tick-
...🌒
The sound of the clock echoed through the artists empty room, the walls were slicked with eons of colors, oozing down onto the floor. Mixing and twisting into a dirty color...if someone were to describe it, it would have looked looked like a murder scene.
And of course the cause of this mess was no other then Taehyung, who has been going through a bit of creators block. This happened whenever he got himself into a bit of a rut so it wasn't like this was the first time his working space had been reduced to globs and bundles of paint and broken brushes.
"Fuck..." Taehyung brought his hand and ran it through his hair in pure annoyance, not minding that he was potentially dying his locks temporarily with the substances. He hastily brought his hand down and abruptly got up from his seat trudging over to the tiny desk neatly set up in the back of the room to get a hold of his phone he needed to call yoongi.
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"Hello?" The voice echoed through the phone, it sounded tired and charred
"Ah hyung, can you get me a model? I know it's sudden and I know it's like fucking 5 am but Ive hit a dangerous rut.. and the media is becoming more demanding for my shit, care to help me out my dear hyung?" The artist asked softly, a wave of anxiety spiking throughout his body..he knew yoongi wasn't one to fulfill random requests, but its the least he could hope for his fellow colleague to help him. He's always chose the prettiest and interesting models, even if yoongi barely calls over different ones he has two regulars he paints obsessively Hoseok and Jimin - and fuck were they pretty specimens..
That was quite off topic-
"Ah fuck Tae its too fucking early for this but, of course..Ive got a new model coming in later so I'll introduce you to him when you come to the studio" he yawned softly, it came faint through the receiver but it didn't fail to make Taehyung smile. "Thanks hyung, i owe you one" yoongi could've sworn he felt the other smile just through those words, it didn't fail to make him smile sluggishly as well.
"Whelp, I'm getting my ass back to bed, I'm fucking tired peace tae don't piss your pants in excitement you alien".
The Phone cut off.
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YOU ARE READING
Pretty.
Fanfiction"you're lucky you're pretty, if not you wouldn't have done any good' "i don't know if i should take that as a compliment, or if i should take that as a pass to kick your fucking ass you alien."
