𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 • 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

22; found

"okay, now that everyone's here..." the playful prince crossed his arms, humming to himself. his eyes land on minghao. "are your painting materials ready?"

"yes, your highness." minghao gives a half bow.

behind minghao, wonwoo was frantically fixing minghao's easel. he moves right on to laying his own set of brushes down the table, before wonwoo shoves minghao's palette towards the amateur artist. seokmin hid a giggle behind his sleeve as he watched wonwoo look after minghao.

"jihoon, for one, scheduled this commission to tell you personally about that general who's currently in jail. also, i want to announce that i have taken down the bounty on minghao's head. on behalf of my idiotic dad, the king, i apologize sincerely for your life here, minghao." soonyoung paused. "and, since jihoon is the reason behind this, i want you to paint a picture of him!"

"what—prince soonyoung!"

"ah," minghao found himself smiling for the second time today. "thank you, your highness, mister jihoon. i am forever indebted to you. i shall begin the commission now."

"no, no! do not be indebted to us! we freed you from miyuni not for you to bind yourself with another contract again!" prince soonyoung shakes his hands in front of himself, stepping forward. "sometimes, we inconvenience other people. it's a part of our lives. you can pay it back by helping others as well. like—hmm, think about it yourself, in your own way. now! the painting shall begin!"

"prince soonyoung!"

"no objections, jihoon! i am paying a huge sum of money for your beauty to be captured! sit beside me and make no hasty moves. be considerate of our dear artist here, please." soonyoung crossed his arms. "now, sirs seokmin and wonwoo, may i invite you to the table as sir minghao works?"

"sure." wonwoo eyes minghao like an eagle, and seokmin pats the former's back before he dragged wonwoo to the table where the others were sat.

minghao started sketching jihoon's face on the canvas, ignoring wonwoo's immense hawk stare at him. he was about to get into his 'painting thought process', but then— he remembers a question he forgot to ask.

"prince soonyoung," minghao calls. the chatter on the table in front of him dies, as their eyes focused on minghao. "what is your favorite feature of sir jihoon's face?"

there was a brief moment of surprise, before soonyoung's confused expression turns into a knowing smile. beside him, jihoon has never left his state of confusion. minghao thought that jihoon was still confused because of his oblivion towards soonyoung's favorite feature of himself.

in truth, it was because jihoon did not have a favorite feature of himself. he was surprised, that someone else did.

"him." soonyoung says, "he is my favourite person. naturally, i would have different favourites in different aspects—but jihoon has it all."

"understood."

minghao tunes out to the banter that has started between jihoon and soonyoung. he focuses on creating his painting—only letting his eyes and hands function, and nothing else.

as his delicate fingers hold the pencil dearly, a smile finds its way to minghao's face. for someone to treasure another person so much that they couldn't pick just one feature they adore the most, was something that minghao found possible today. must be true love.

minghao knows that he can't go out and define love. he, after all, is still learning. but, he doesn't base it on what he sees. he bases it on what he feels. the emotion that soonyoung's gentle smile and simple words brought overwhelming happiness to minghao.

happiness might be different from love, but they are closely associated. minghao believes that what he saw was something close to love—but he can never truly know until he experiences it for himself, can't he?

speaking of experiences, minghao is finally free from his binds in miyuni. all thanks to these two lovebirds, and seungcheol. it might not look like it, but minghao is truly happy.

he was chained in miyuni, where he accepted that he was only a machine that moves by command. but, when seungcheol set him free, minghao learned that what he accepted as the truth was not the truth all along. he was not a machine. he was a young boy, who was able to find where his soul burns with great passion in a country he used to resent.

at the time, minghao considered his relationship with seungcheol a truce. he was an enemy to minghao for long until he finally trusted seungcheol with his whole heart—only for that trust to be broken down (and rebuilt again in the same day).

now, minghao's head is clear of doubts about seungcheol. he can pursue art without worrying whether his head gets cut off tomorrow or in the nesr future.

at last, minghao is free.

for the first time, his hands are full of spring's flowers.

"kid," wonwoo calls.

minghao snaps out of his own world, tilting his body so he can see wonwoo behind the canvas. "yes?"

there was a visible tense in wonwoo's face and shoulders that dissipated when minghao replied. "do a good job and show your tutor that you've been learning from him, okay?"

minghao smiled, for the third time today. "yes, wonwoo hyung. i will."

though wonwoo couldn't hear minghao's response clearly, he still smiled back.