Blacksmith『 ᵈᵃᵛⁱᵈ ʰᵒᶜᵏⁿᵉʸ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ 』

ㅤ▬▬ 𝟐.𝟐

❝Hockney's POV❞

▬▬ 𝕬n artist that drew mountains and mountains of commissions in a day; he could replicate his imaginations into reality. Most of his works were purely a gist of his imagination, but he poured a lot of his understanding of humanity into his work, specifically their emotions.

That's how the artist knows her smile must mean something else.

"Y/N, are you alright?" He asked once again. The girl shifted in her place then faced the ceiling, her hands reaching out into nothing... Was she trying to grab the air or something?

"I miss Hoh."

Surprise took over Hockney. It was his first time hearing someone else's name uttered from the girl's lips. Well, besides her talking shit about her boss and clients- but, yeah. It wasn't everyday she'd talk about someone who was important to her...

Ironically enough, the phrase "important to her" had made the albino's heart twinge. If you think he's jealous, no, he's having a heart attack!

"Hoh?" He raised his brow, as his unique eyes gleamed with curiosity at the mention of the person's name.

"Are they your significant other?" He added whilst failing to hide his curiosity but, to begin with, he never hid it.

Y/N chuckled at Hockney's question as the ever-growing smirk grew larger and larger and became more clear to the naked eye. "Yeah, he's significant to me."

The pale man was now curious as ever. If this "Hoh" person was significant to her, how come she had never mentioned this person to him?

The artist had lived with her for years and learned a lot about her that other people rarely get to see. She was gentle and honest, but it still doesn't negate the fact that her stubbornness and anger prevail when expressing herself. She was a person who Hockney looked up to, someone who he wanted to be, but is that really his admiration talking?

As if on cue, there was this strong feeling in the pit of his stomach. A sickening feeling that made the food he had consumed hours ago, taste disgusting. He even felt like he was going to vomit it out but, is he alright? Or was it the indescribable emotion taking over him?

Despite the unknown feeling clawing out Hockney's mind, he still forced himself to utter a question. "So, what is he to you?"

"Well, he's my little brother."

Suddenly, the strong feeling subsided, followed by a wave of relief washing him over. Why was he relieved when he found out more about Hoh's relation to Y/N? He was curious, yes but, he shook it off, not wanting to ruin the cheery atmosphere that was just building up.

"Well, I miss Mata." David shared.

Out of nowhere, his roommate started laughing. Was it because of what he said?

"Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry, a regular of mine taught me a little of their native language. Apparently, mata means eye in her native language." The laughing girl explained.

Once both the artist and the blacksmith started reminiscing about the past, the questions that fogged his mind were quick to dry, just like acrylic paint. The questions he had still lingered at the back of his mind, but the questions didn't bother him as much as before. The thoughts only stayed backstage, waiting for their moment to shine.

As of now, he was more focused on the smile she wore. The way her eyes wrinkled to signify her happiness, and the familiar upward curve that revealed her imperfect teeth, along with the obnoxious laughter. This scenery has urged him to capture the moment, that moment of shared happiness with his friend.

Hockney wanted to take a picture or recreate the scene on paper but; he felt like the smile he would recreate on paper is nothing compared to the one he is seeing right now. Y/N was beautiful, and it saddens Hockney that he rarely gets to see her smile.

If the titan who called himself Prometheus were ever real, he would disapprove of the girl not displaying her gifts. He would probably tell her to embrace her gifts because he believes mortal lives deserved the gifts that the gods gave to them.

As the albino male thought more about Prometheus' love for humanity, it inclined him to tell Y/N to smile more. He was about to open his mouth, but the horned girl that sat beside him flickered from a crying position to her sitting position.

Despite being shocked by the vision, he held himself back from gasping loudly. The vision he saw just now means it will happen, so the vision being a possibility is not an option, but what caused it?

The horned girl looked really hurt in his vision; The pale man feared hurting her anymore, so he withdrew his hand from her despite never touching a single hair on her.

As he feared, the H/C haired girl slumped onto her knees just like in his vision. Her sweaty hair now plays the role of the curtains instead of her eyelids. Her arms now embracing her legs while her forehead rests on top of her knees.

"I wish I could see him again." The blacksmith said, her head still buried in between her knees.

The artist hasn't heard her sniffle yet but, he's silently hoping that she's sleep talking instead of crying, because he did not know how to handle someone crying- I mean, no one knows how to handle someone crying but it's still nerve wrecking for him.

"I know he promised he'd come here on the 40th floor..." Y/N trailed off, her voice sounding like it was trying its best not to tremble.

"Well, I look forward to his visit!" The white-haired male said enthusiastically, but his forced smile fell when he heard her sniffle.

"Are you crying?" He asked whilst placing a hand on her shoulder.

On cue, Y/N's head shot up, which revealed the opposite of what Hockney wanted. Instead of her imperfect yet cute smile settling on her face, her face is smeared with her sweat and tears along with hair strands.

▬▬ 𝕿𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝. 𝕮𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 2
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♡ㅤㅤ ≡ ㅤ➭ㅤ ㅤ⌂
ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉ