𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

107 | the looking glass of her soul

Elena's POV

Standing alone inside the poolhouse, surrounded by so many incredible pieces of art feels like I have finally came in touch with another side of Jungkook' that he rarely shows outside. The subtle scent of acrylic paint, wood and paper, the pungent odor of the waxy canvases he has on display on drying racks blend altogether in the air as I snoop around on his desk in search of the painting he did of me. The pool house is particularly spacious and roomy that it fits a small kitchen in here. There's a red sofa and even a large bed.

His desk is filled with books and sketchpads, most of them look like they're used down to the last page while stray papers with random doodles of anime characters and portraits are scattered all over the place. 

Shelves filled with art supplies such as flat brushes from thin ones to thick ones are occupying the space, along with tubes of acrylics and oils, all of them organized by color and category, while on a lower shelve I notice charcoals and more pencils. That particular shelve is dustier than the rest while on the highest shelve there's a globe marked with all the countries and districts that Jungkook wants to visit, or perhaps has already visited in the past. 

I smile at the fact that this room is messier than his bedroom. In a good way of course. 

Just by being in here I see a Jungkook that is spontaneous, unconstrained, liberated even. It was refreshing when I found the oil painting of Jimin and Taehyung from when they were in high school where with each stroke he made, light or harsh; you can feel the emotion seeping through the canvas like the blood that rushes through your veins. From the faint pink he used to highlight the drunken flush on Jimin' cheeks, to Taehyung's irritated expression he still somehow managed to show me how he sees them. 

And what he sees in them is totally different from what I see. 

Through that painting he showed me two young reckless boys, one of them grinning on the other serious boy' back. The tiniest details such as the folds on their clothes; Jimin's unruly hair while Taehyung is clean cut and sharp like he usually is, not allowing even his friend' stupidity to rub off on him. It's as simple as that yet so vibrant and alive and innocent. And it makes me wonder...how does Jungkook see me?

What color does he see me in? 

Am I clean or am I tainted?

Would my clothes have folds and wrinkles? Or perhaps he doesn't see me wearing any?

Maybe, that's why he was being difficult about showing me at first. 

Just before he left, he mentioned something the painting being on a rack under his desk, but I only see a steel utility cart with more paint and used charcoals scattered on it's shelves, while next to it there's something that's covered with a red cloth. I slowly drag the fabric off whatever is underneath it only to reveal the drying rack with the paintings he told me about before he bolted out of here. 

"Yes!" I squeal victoriously and sit on the floor as I curiously look through all of them when a shocked gasp leaves my lips.

Because all of the paintings he did were of me.

Like the one where I'm sitting in class with the pen touching my forehead and my eyes are focused up front, probably at what the professor was saying. Sun rays fall on my hair and it turns into a warm auburn shade. The apples of my cheeks are reddish and my free hand is resting on my lap. In another painting, I'm wearing the same oversized pink hoodie and wig I wore when Jungkook offered to give me a ride to the Empire Hotel. I scrutinize both paintings carefully as I notice that he used craft acrylics for these artworks as he went for a more delicate feel.