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⤃ C H A P T E R   7

Jungkook ran his hands over the plasticky surface of the canvas in front of him and took in the sharp, concentrated scent of the array of acrylic paint around him.

Painting brought him peace. In the chaos that his life always was, the smell and feel of a paint-dipped brush gliding across a blank canvas never failed to make him feel at ease.

His art room was one of the first rooms he'd set up when he moved in and it wasn't like he decided to set up that specific room first, it just naturally happened. Whenever he felt himself slipping into chaos, he'd unpack some paint and set up a canvas with its stand and just paint.

He would paint his thoughts and his feelings. Transferring his emotions onto canvases and turning his thoughts into patterns.

Jungkook never knew the destination of his paintings when he began them. Most of the time, when he wasn't trying to paint anything in particular, he just lets his mind go idle. Letting every intrusive thought intrude and every feeling be felt.

Sometimes his paintings felt too personal to share. Others may see it as stupid because to them 'it's just paint' but if he'd poured his whole self into a painting, it was hard to let something so intimate to him just be displayed in someone's living room.

Every time he painted, it was almost like he was possessed, stuck in a trance. Like right now. His ringing phone is what snapped him out of his thoughts. Before picking up the phone Jungkook assessed his work.

That's weird...

It was a portrait.

Jungkook couldn't yet make out who it was supposed to be but he'd only ever drawn a portrait once and he never wanted to draw another one.

Tossing the canvas aside, Jungkook picked up his phone. Intending on ignoring that painting, even debating on throwing it away.

He doesn't do portraits.

Everyone knew this. His manager, his clients, his agency, why is that changing now?

He doesn't do portraits.

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