grey is the truth | jaeyong

5.alternating rhythm

Jaehyun was resting his head on his hand, lying on the brown rotten sofa. He could see that boy sleeping on his chest, by the sunshine glowing from the cloudy window. Taeyong was really calm as if he never slept this comfortably.

For the thousandth time, the painter man was wondering how he was this beautiful?

No matter how many times he looked at the boy, he was unbelievably beautiful.

But Jaehyun was kind of sad, so sad about how lonely Taeyong can be that he trusted Jaehyun so easily that he even had sex with him even though they didn't know each other for a long time.

Jaehyun forced a smile and carresed Taeyong's cheek. He was painfully lovely. Then, he slowly removed Taeyong's hand from his chest and got up from the sofa.

He was standing behind the window, looking at his silver lighter.

With lighting it up, the little sparks were glittering in his eyes. Jaehyun liked the sound that it was making and the smell of it.

He got the flame of lighter close to the cigarette, which was between his lips.

It was Jaehyun's worst habit. Smoking early in the morning before even having breakfast.

The smoke dances while going out of his mouth. Jaehyun was too lazy to wear a shirt, so he was just standing there with only his pants on.

He raised a brow and looked at the sketchbook, which was thrown on the floor.

Then he picked up the sketchbook with a pencil and a blade cutter.

Jaehyun placed the cigarette between his lips, then he picked up the wooden chair and placed it in front of the sofa, which Taeyong was sleeping on it.

Crossing his legs, then he placed the sketchbook on his lap, He was busy sharpening the pencil with the blade cutter.

Jaehyun looked at Taeyong.

The boy's narrow body, every part of his skin, was filled with oil paint spots and fresh bruises caused by Jaehyun, a colored body from his cheeks down to his thighs and his feet.

How could Jaehyun ignore that scene as a painter?

Then he started drawing Taeyong again with no hesitation.

By drawing different elements and geometric shapes with different sizes and some connecting tangled lines, he was drawing Taeyong's delicate body so wonderfully.

But it was strange because Jaehyun would never draw his models more than once.

But by drawing Taeyong for the second time, he felt like getting a punch in the face, which made him understand that the boy in front of him is something more than a motionless model.

Suddenly, his pencil tip broke.

Jaehyun sighed and started sharpening the pencil again. While sharpening with losing his control, the sharp blade cut Jaehyun's finger deeply.

He dropped the blade and holded his hand. The man frowned from the pain he was feeling.

Jaehyun raised his hand. He wanted to suck the blood on his finger, but suddenly, he stopped.

He was watching that red blood flowing.

That color was his identity, his builder element, the color that made Jung Jaehyun.

Then he looked at Taeyong.

Looking at those colors and bruises, they were Jaehyun's phenomena.

The colors were different. Literally, all the colors were on his body, but Jaehyun was seeing all of them as one color, a bold shade of red, same as his own blood.