Painted Blue (JOOKYUN✔️)

blue

"How have you been?"

Four words, more simple than expected; Changkyun cannot make sense of them. He's so desperately curtained off, sheets of color hiding him from the rest of the world. He can count each second that passes before the words begin to take shape and solidify. Three seconds for each word, until he finally blinks and lets a few stray tears streak down his dark skin.

Jooheon watches each, wondering if the beige streaks are signs of the positive or negative. He is scared to ask anything more, but he wants to know. He's yet to decipher his own tears, yet he must know; "Why're you crying?"

Changkyun doesn't answer yet again. His mouth knows to part and form words, but his emotions are taking over the best of his abilities. He cannot speak. But he doesn't need to. For the first time in a long time, he can finally see. And the world is blinding. It glints and shines against Jooheon's pale cheeks, slowly tinging red in fear.

Minhyuk stares, while Kihyun glances away nervously, while Hoseok swallows his pride. "I think I can handle the rest of the shift alone," he murmurs. The older man does not want to watch this tearful reunion, happy or otherwise. "Changkyun, take your leave."

The younger tears his gaze away from the view, lifting his hands as the jolt of his surroundings hits him. His fingers swipe beneath his eyes, Hoseok's expression all he can take in for the moment. Hoseok only lifts his chin in a single nod, a silent plea for the younger to simply leave. The older's affections are not enough to hurt Changkyun in this moment; Hoseok knows the younger does not deserve that and never will. No matter the damage he preaches, Changkyun deserves the sun behind those eyes, not a broken heart.

Taking one long breath in, Changkyun is ready to run with the colors of the universe streaked across his skin. His cheeks are damp and warm, his heart is rampant in terror, and his hands are empty in longing. Turning towards Jooheon once again, Changkyun finds no strength to speak. But he can still sidestep around his cafe counter and stand before Jooheon with wide, expectant eyes.

"How have you been?"

Changkyun does not want to give an answer. He hasn't been well. He imagines it shows in his features, as he hasn't eaten properly in quite some time. Though he shops, cooks, and functions as an adult while alone, he doesn't often find the necessity in eating when with others. He doesn't want to appear in need, as if he hasn't provided for himself after losing half of him.

Wiping beneath his eyes again, Changkyun uses one leap of strength to part his lips in a small smile.

Jooheon shuffles back a step, his eyes wavering before the dark love that fell between the crack. The blue weapon that stole his ability to paint for months. That rested in his heart and ached for weeks. That still sinks his feet into the ground beneath him, and drags his chin against his chest in shame. Changkyun is the chaos that threw his life to the wind.

Changkyun is the chaos that held him together when nothing else could.

The younger's fingers itch to reach out and stripe through the blue blossoms resting along Jooheon's hair. Against his shirt. Against his skin. The older's fingers itch for a brush and a canvas, old memories of pain and love like galaxies within only a foot of distance.

Recalling all the negative, and comparing it to all the grand, the glorious, the perfect; Jooheon sighs. "Did you wanna see the mural we've been working on?"

Changkyun feels the familiar burn of new tears return. Joy sparks and ignites in his chest, alight and stark against the dim darkness he's been resting in. It's freeing.

"I've been working on the sky," Jooheon adds with a newfound light of his own. It shines brighter when Changkyun's smile expands. It scorches when Changkyun nods and takes a long step forward.

It burns against his hand when Jooheon reaches out to take Changkyun's arm. Blue warmth envelopes them both, and a final beginning comes to life beneath the painted sky.