[k.yj×y.hw] Muse✅

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Ship: Youngjo×Hwanwoong
Type: Fluff

-×-

Youngjo stared at the model posing in the middle of the room. None of his features are good enough to draw. His cheekbones are so undefined, his body is scrawny and skimpy and his posture is overall terrible.

But, he still continued to draw lines across his paper. "Youngjo, not bad. You've really managed to capture the model's precise features."

He looked at his drawing, a blank, lifeless figure stared back at him. He scoffed internally. This is good for them.

As he continued, he heard music coming from next door studio, annoying him. The Dance Class had just shifted. He removed his earphones from his bag and played his own music, helping him concentrate.

Once again, he left the studio low-spirited. He was unhappy with his drawings as usual. He tried to focus on the music playing through his earphones to distract himself, but his mind kept going back. Passing by the new dance studio, he looked through the window to see only person in the room. He was still busy practising after everyone else had left.

He saw the boy gracefully move across the room, utilising the entire space to his will. He looks so... refined. Youngjo reached for his phone from his pocket and opened the camera as he began to record his performance.

With nimble movements, the dancer used every body part to perfectly express himself, a natural flow possessed him. He saw him frolic in the air with his light-hearted movements, clicking something within Youngjo.

He also saw the boy wince as he grabbed his ankle in pain, falling down from applying all his pressure on one foot. Youngjo dropped his phone and dashed into the room, rushing to the boy's help. He saw him turn his head towards him, bewilderment sprawled across his face. Youngjo kneeled down next to him, "Let me help."

The dancer pointed towards a corner, "The bandage is in my bag." He stood up and ran towards the bag, bringing the whole thing back with him. He removed the ointment but the boy stopped him, "Hey, you don't need to-"

"It's okay," Youngjo replied as he spread the ointment on his hurt, making him wince again, "Sorry." The boy smiled back at him, "It's not your fault."

He has really defined bones.

Youngjo found himself tracing them as he massaged his ankle. "Thanks," the boy sheepishly said, "Can I know your name?"

"Youngjo. And yours?"

"Hwanwoong."

Youngjo finished applying the bandages and prompted Hwanwoong, "Can you stand up properly?" Holding onto Youngjo's shoulders, he managed to pull himself up. He tried taking one step forward but immediately lost his balance, falling right into his arms. He stared up at him, pulling himself up once again, "I'm so sorry."

Youngjo saw the boy's staggering steps towards his bag. He heard the low grunts come out of his mouth. I can't just leave him here.

"Are you sure you will be fine?"

Hwanwoong bent down to grab his bag, "Don't worry. My friend is there to help me." Youngjo didn't want to leave. Something kept him grounded here. But, he knew he would be overstepping boundaries if he did so, "Then, I guess I'll leave you be." Hwanwoong stood straight back up and bowed his head, "Thanks for the help."

-×-

Youngjo stared at the cracked screen of his phone, cursing himself. Thankfully, it still worked. Switching it on, he went through his notifications. Messages. Calls. "Storage problems?" He opened his gallery to see the cause, finding a new video. "Oh right." He played it, once again seeing the dancer gracefully moving across the room. His form is perfect. His legs and arms are perfectly arched, but at the same free flowing.

He removed his drawing pad from his bag as he began to sketch the dancer's poise, using the video as a reference. But, he didn't just want to draw his body. He wanted to draw his face and his vibrant expressions. A memory of Hwanwoong's face staring at him came to him. His cheekbones were high and defined, his eyes were like small, sparkling jewels and his lips were a vivid splash of rose. He found his fingers trace out the boy's face as if they were moving by their own accord.

-×-

Everyday, Youngjo found himself sitting outside the dance studio, sketching the dancer's perfect form, trying to get his beauty on his paper. Impossible, but he tried. He tried everyday but he kept failing. Sometimes, he couldn't draw out his beautiful almond eyes or his luscious locks of hair or his slim and toned torso. But, he remained patient. "Eventually," he kept repeating to himself.

Finally, he did it. He had captured his beauty while the dancer was suspended in a mid-air pose. It showed his poise, gracefulness and most importantly, his expression. Suave.

He was so focused on adding the finishing touches to his drawing, he didn't realise somebody take a seat next to him. "What are you drawing?"

It was him, Hwanwoong.

He immediately closed his drawing pad, placing it on his side, "N-nothing."

Everyone would ask him whether they could see his drawings. He hated it when people were persistent on seeing them. He could never express why, he just didn't like showing them. He expected Hwanwoong, too, to ask him.

"I understand. You're shy to show your work in front of people because you never feel like you're good enough. But, they always compliment you and because of that you don't know how to react," an encouraging smile formed on his face, "I completely understand how you feel."

"But, you're beautiful. You're perfect."

Impulsively, Youngjo picked up his drawing pad and handed it over to the boy. He waited, head hung, sneaking glances as Hwanwoong went through all his drawings catching him in various poses, surprised.

"You...you've been drawing...me?"

Youngjo looked up to directly meet with the dancer's eyes, "Well, you were my muse."

-×-

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