𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 • 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

12; an artist with a few strokes on his arms

a/n: jihan crumbs time

"i'm not going to ask how your first commission went. i'm sorry," seungcheol coyly scratched his nape, approaching minghao after entering his room. "i should have rejected that for you."

"no, hyung, it's alright. jeonghan's mother was very pleased to see how the painting turned out." minghao stood up from his chair, leaving his study table. "i am just a little sad, though. jeonghan and his mom didn't make up. we spent the whole process of painting without uttering a word."

"well... if you say so," seungcheol shrugged, sitting on minghao's bed. "are you getting ready to sleep? i also wanted to inform you to get ready for a long journey tomorrow. you'll be going to the astronomy observatory with shua for a big commission."

"i will do my best tomorrow." minghao slightly smiled at the mention of 'commission'.

"but i am not yet going to sleep. wonwoo hyung instructed me to study color combinations and complimentary shades. he said that i always work with dark colors, and he said he's going to be blind soon too if he keeps on seeing them." minghao replied, grabbing a textbook on color theory to show it to a laughing seungcheol.

"his jokes are always offensive to himself." seungcheol laughed, inviting minghao to sit beside him using a hand gesture. minghao complies easily. "but he's correct. dark colors mean... a lot of sad things, you know."

"i am aware. i pour my heart into every painting i make, hyung."

"hmm, very well then. i'll look forward to the day i see you paint something with bright colors." seungcheol pats minghao's back, and the latter awkwardly showed him a smile. seungcheol laughed. "minghao, to you, what color do you see me as?"

it was an easy question.

"seungcheol hyung, you are blue." minghao's head tilts toward the ceiling. "just like the sky. it has no particular reason why it's blue... but, it's.. there; and i'm thankful it is, because it's beautiful to me. i don't know why you're helping me, but i'm thankful nonetheless."

minghao knew he did well in explaining. he was proud that he was understanding meanings of colors little by little, and that he is growing to be someone who minghao wished he was, instead of being a soldier.

seungcheol warmly smiled at minghao.

it felt like minghao was gaining so many people in his life, and it's getting scarier because there were so many smiles for one person to protect. but, at the same time, minghao feels warm. he feels anew, and he feels more human compared to how he was weeks ago.

"that's real flattering, minghao. the color blue stands for hope, you know."

"you're going home?"

joshua and jeonghan stood side by side on the sidewalk, both holding heavy suitcases. jeonghan slightly turns his body towards joshua to speak. "so are you."

"i really hope you're okay." joshua replied, grabbing jeonghan's hand lightly to cross the road with him. "do you want me to cook dinner for you tonight? i've just bought enough ingredients for tomato soup and steak, you know, which is your favorite."

jeonghan laughed, leaping once to catch up with joshua's walking speed. "sure, shua."

"nice!"

the two artists walked eight blocks after crossing the road, headed towards joshua's small and cozy home.

after hearing today's events, joshua immediately knew that he had to invite jeonghan over. joshua knows how much jeonghan's family impacted his emotional state—and for what good is he if not jeonghan's number one support system?

you see, joshua was not good at comforting people—but when it comes to the only person he loved, he's always good at it.

when they reached joshua's home, jeonghan sat down his springy couch.

"hannie, i'll be in the kitchen to—"

jeonghan grasps joshua's sleeve. "can you stay with me for a minute?"

joshua looks down at jeonghan, smiling with a nod. "sure. are you... ready to talk about it?"

"shua, i... for the longest time, i've lived without my parents. i've thrived, i am where i am now after experiencing deadly years of labor, and i've lost my family unknowingly. i belong in no family tree now, and i'm practically alone." jeonghan gulped, before continuing. "and now that i found out that my mom even hired an artist to paint my portrait because i never visited her—does it make me a bad son? i feel bad for her, even if she never apologized to me.

"i also created a bad experience for minghao. oh, minghao, that sweet young boy from a much harsher environment than i was. am i even allowed to whine about my situation? minghao has had it worse, you know, shua, a—and, you know, i—i just— i want to—"

jeonghan bursts into tears, and joshua offers him a big embrace. silently, joshua rubs jeonghan's back—like he always did—as jeonghan sobbed into his shoulder.

"it's not your fault, hannie." joshua softly whispered into jeonghan's ear, feeling jeonghan's hiccups on his shoulder. "your feelings are valid, and i'm sorry. i'm sure minghao understands what you did. he's an understanding person."

"shua, you know, things would've been b-better if i wasn't born." jeonghan states, slumping onto joshua. "my life just sucks."

"don't say that. if you weren't born, hannie," says joshua, "i would rather not be born too."