✔︎𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

5. Voice Mail

Dark brown, smooth and sweet like a warm cup of hot chocolate in winter, like a nice coffee with just a little milk. Dark brown like his eyes.

Blonde, cheerful like grain growing in the first days of spring, like a cat's sleek, well-groomed fur. Blonde like his hair.

Light pink, soft and delicate like a blooming flower, like the pretty prom dress girls love to wear. Light pink like his cheeks.

My eyes carefully followed the movements of my hand as I spread various colors across the canvas. The smell of paint filled the small shop, and the only sound I could hear was the gentle brushstrokes I was making. My gaze shifted from the unfinished painting in front of me to the figure I was studying.

Jisung sat on a small chair, facing me, his canvas in front of him. I observed how his dark eyes were completely focused on his work, the way he bit his soft pink lips, and how he moved his brush across the canvas. With the help of my own brush and a palette of colors I had quickly mixed, I was carefully trying to capture the face in front of me. But I kept getting lost in his eyes.

For the first time, I realized just how good-looking Jisung was. His sharp, long eyes, his puffy pink lips, his small but cute nose, his round face, and that little mole on his right cheek. Everything about him was strangely giving me goosebumps, and I didn't even know why.

The boy's eyes quickly looked up in my direction, facing me who was still lost in his features. We hold that eye contact for a little too long, before I quickly lowered my head back on the canvas, feeling my cheeks slightly becoming red.

I hurriedly drew more blonde strands of hair, trying to recreate the slightly messy look of his locks. As I worked, I thought about the last—and only—time I had painted someone in real life. Jeongin's hair had been darker, as had his eyes. His face was sharper, and his skin was paler. I remembered the day I had painted Jeongin, and how I had promised myself that I would never paint someone else in real life who wasn't him. Yet, here I was.

"How does this look?" Jisung asked, breaking the silence in the room.

I glanced up at him, meeting his curious but hesitant expression. His words from before we started working echoed in my mind:

"You know, I'm more comfortable with character design and stuff like that. Realistic portraits aren't really my thing, so if you could help me, that'd be amazing."

I stood up to look at his painting. It wasn't bad at all—he had already improved a lot after following the advice I had given him earlier.

"Maybe you could add more highlights here and here," I said, pointing at the canvas.

Jisung nodded, smiling warmly. "Got it. Thanks!"

Our eyes met again, and once more, that warm expression of his hit me. I didn't know why, but something about this boy made the whole situation feel comfortable, almost dreamy. The anxiety I had felt toward him just a few hours ago had completely disappeared. A soft smile formed on my lips as I watched him work, applying the advice I had just given him.

By the time both of our brushes had left the canvas, it was already 8 p.m. I carefully studied my painting, deciding whether I liked it or not. It looked pretty similar to Jisung, and I was pleased with how I had captured each of his features. I glanced at Jisung's work too, and for someone who didn't usually paint portraits, it was really impressive.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Jisung asked kindly as I got ready to leave the shop.

"It's okay, you still have work to do, right?"

"Yeah, I have to tidy up the shelves and clean the shop."

"I don't want to bother you, then."

Jisung nodded. "I guess I'll see you at school?"