Paint you Naked [MINSUNG]

5

♥️♥️♥️

Jisung took his shoes off by the end of the stairs, carefully putting them by the entrance and trying to be as slow and silent as he could walking on the wooden floor, both to not wake up the neighbors downstairs and his friends.

He cursed internally while looking at the clock, three am close with plans by seven, he wanted to cry right there, he needed his sleep.

The guy was suddenly feeling tired like he had never, as if the last hour had taken all his energy away.

He opened the door to his room, smiling softly at the girl fast asleep on the bed.

Chuu's hair was up in a lose ponytail, since she hated to feel her hair during her sleep, it woke her up. Jisung slipped into the bathroom after making sure he got his pijamas without awaking her and carefully leaving the drawing in the bed dresser.

He let the hot water run down his body as his brain went over the night again.

Seungmin's puppy expressions, the red paint, the streetlight.

Minho.

The artist.

The painter.

The man that had captivated him so bad in such a short time.

Why?

What was that feeling?

He stared at the mirror for a bit too long as his thoughts got tangled as usual, until he was so tired his eyes barely could stay open, and he surrendered to it, dragging his tired body to the bed and laying down.

He smiled a bit at his girlfriend, who's body immediately got closer to the heat, snuggling against his arm.

He let his head fall to the side and let a dream clout his eyes, slipping to a world where all there was were abstract shapes, whispered words and a tiny bit of red paint.

—————

Minho sighed as he looked at the clock.

4am.

The night had been good, but then again, it always was good for him. For some reason everyone felt attracted to his paintings, leaving Seungmin without a break and the painter himself without being able to put his brush down.

That night it had been different, though. He put the box down, not even wandering how much money it was there before Chan took it from him, muttering something about going up to his atelier, to which Minho simply nodded.

The Australian knew something was up with his friend, so he simply put his things up in the attic and came back down, finding the younger exactly in the same position, staring at the white wall behind the fireplace.

"You okay?"

Minho smile lazily at the ice cream seller.

"Yep, go to bed, you have to be up to cook me lunch tomorrow."

Chan scoffed, slapping his neck slightly and going away, muttering a few curses in an advanced english that Minho could not understand. After all, Seungmin mostly stayed with him because of communication with the tourists, and of course to get some of his money and use it for food.

And Chan's ice creams.

No, Chan did not make a discount to them even if they were friends or lived together.

That was just how he was.

Minho heard him close to door to his room and the water on his bathroom start running, but he was too busy smiling like a man's man at the wall.

He had no idea why the stranger had caught his attention that much.

Jisung.

Han Jisung.

What a pretty name.

Minho was an artist, since he was a child he had been attracted to the beautiful views, sounds, people, anything that pleased his painter's eye, anything that he could project to the paper and capture all the emotion it made him feel.

Jisung was like that.

He had simply locked eyes with the older and made him feel.

Feel something new, something he was not quite sure how to represent in a canvas yet. No matter how much he tried that night, instead of going to sleep, the image of the boy's face dissipating from his memory and becoming less clear everytime he tried to paint it, failing over and over again, frustrated.

He never had been through that.

He had never had trouble turning an emotion into a painting.

He was not sure wether that was good or bad, but it made him curious.

What other emotions could the boy make him feel that he could not paint?

That his black and white pencil and his red obsession could not turn into something physical?

Minho sighed and put the third canvas to the side, Jisung's face clear but not clear enough to him, and turned to the small window where he could see the moon, part of the Eiffel tower appearing in the background.

"Han Jisung.", he muttered, his brush tool behind his ear for aesthetics. "What is this?"

—————

Since tomorrow I will be sleeping at a friend's house, today is a double update day!! :)

This was a small but necessary chapter, also I see everyone freaking out with Minho already you are not ready for him in this book *clown face*