FELIX ONESHOTS! (bxb)

The Lovers that Went Wrong (JILIX)

Now Playing: Youth by Daugther 

The scrapping of clay and soft music playing in the background was what all Felix could hear. He was too indulged in his work to care about what songs were playing and he wanted to get his sculptor done by tonight or tomorrow. He had been working on this piece for quite some time now and he had put in all of his time into it.

He was in the comfort of his own studio, different sculptors of people or animals filling the room along with untouched clay models beside it. His outfit was stained with grey from all the breaking and remaking of clay he had to do earlier, leaving his wooden floor messy; he had made a mental note to get someone to clean it up once he was done.

His fingertips were gently touching the cheek of his statue, his tool slowly scrapping off any access clay just so he could make the jawline sharper. He remembered how he started off, he was getting the base of the body first, which he used stones. Every day he would spend a few hours just breaking it apart just so he could get it to the right shape he wanted it to be. When he did achieve it, he used clay for the details, hence what he was doing now.

He didn't know how long he spent on the details, he only remembered his friend, Seungmin coming over and dragging him away from the studio because he was staying in there for a few days straight without any sleep or even eating. He didn't mean to do it, though; when he was focused on his work, that was the only thing he could think of.

He stopped scraping once he found that it was good enough and looked at the statue in front of him. He stared into the stone-cold eyes of his masterpiece and he couldn't help but feel déjà vu when looking at it. He caressed the cheek with his thumb, feeling the roughness of the surface against his skin, and pulled away, stepping a few steps back to see his final result.

He sighed in relief and let out a breathy chuckle as he gazed at the statue in front of him. The body structure, along with the face was perfect; all those nights spent time detailing the statue was definitely worth it. He managed to show off the curves and the wrinkles of the clothes that he made on the structure, making it look smooth and real. The grip on the hourglass that he made his statue hold seemed even more real; the small lines at the side of his palms were shown, along with the lines on the fingers of the statues, all looking so smooth and soft to touch.

He then started to observe more at what he did; usually, he would tell a story when creating sculptors, and to do that, he let his mind run free. He would only realize what he did once he had finished his work.

His eyes landed on the hourglass, he made the sand look more realistic and softer as for the glass; he had broken them into bits of pieces to place them at random spots of the hourglass. It was to make it look like it was broken but the sand was still going down. His eyes then trailed up to the face of his statue, there were small and big cracks; he had intentionally put it there and it wasn't because he made mistakes. No, he could never a mistake; he couldn't risk it. He reached his hand out to touch one of the cracks, gently rubbing it as he looked at the hard clay tears that were trailing down his statue's eyes.

It was beautiful.

The structure, the man, and the details themselves were bewitching. The man's cracks on his skin were the troubles that he had gone through; each challenging situation he found himself in, he broke something off him, losing himself in the process. Thus, the tears that were running down the cheek of the statue; the pain he had to endure during these situations were too much and he wants it to stop. But then the hourglass comes into place; he can't stop because he knows he must keep going otherwise time would be coming after him.

"Denouement," he whispers to himself. "The outcome of a complex sequence of events."

"That's what I'll call you," he adds on later, still admiring his work before him.