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it wasn't only his voice and stories that fascinated her. taehyung was an artist in all senses of the word. he could sing as well, and his acting was shown in how he reenacted his stories. he was a surprisingly good dancer as well, although very silly. but dahye loved his paintings the most. taehyung used colors in a way that revealed a whole new side to the world. the skies she'd never seen as green seemed to belong that way. that glistening silver rose looked realer than the red ones in the garden outside. he was a man of many talents and seemed to look in the world in a different, more beautiful light than anyone else. dahye often wondered how such a great mind ended up to commit murder. he should have been at art shows, on a stage, speaking in interviews, not stuck talking to her in a small suffocating room that caged his creativity. dahye hated that he was trapped. she knew that there was a reason, but she could barely believe it.

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