"Ugh...Haru...turn it off...too loud," I groaned, flinging a pillow at the door.
The TV was on ridiculously loud and it was adding to my already splitting hangover headache.
"Haru," I whined, rolling around throwing a mini-tantrum.
But she wasn't turning off the TV, or making a move to do anything for that matter, so I had to force myself out of bed to go scold her.
I stood up, steadying myself against the wall since my equilibrium was a little off from the headache.
"Hey! Haru! Turn it down!" I barked, trudging outside with half-lidded eyes.
My steps were heavy as I went out into the living room. What I expected to see was Haru drunkenly on the couch in a rather awkward position as she was half-asleep.
That's what I expected. What I got was so much worse.
"Haru! Turn it—ahh!" I screamed, jumping back in fright. There was a whole human man on my couch, staring back at me like a deer in headlights. He looked startled, clutching his chest in shock.
"Oh my god, you startled me!" He said, eyeing me up and down.
"Oh my god, I wasn't that drunk last night. I don't remember bringing anyone home. I thought I went straight to bed. Did I bring you home? Are you okay? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry if I forced something on you or you were uncomfortable or—"
He looked at me with a puzzled expression, head tilted to one side like a curious puppy, "Uh I mean you did bring me home. I remember that. I was feeling super weird and like I couldn't move. Kind of like being dead or having sleep paralysis. I could see what was going on, but I couldn't speak or move. It was super scary. But you were super nice and carried me securely when I couldn't walk. You saved me from being 'burned' or something scary like that."
I rubbed my temple frustratedly, "Oh my god you were drunk too, that's even worse. How could I do that? That's so wrong. I'm so so so sorry."
"I don't know why you're apologizing. You're like my hero now. You looked so pretty as you carried me into the threshold of your home," he grinned.
"WE GOT MARRIED?!" I exclaimed, slumping onto the floor.
"Oh my gosh, are we married? Are you my wife? I'm sorry...I don't remember much of anything. I just remember that sleep paralysis feeling. I've tried to recall my life or where I was but I have no recollection of anything," he sighed.
Okay, no drunk marriage, that's good. But who the hell was this strange man sitting on our couch watching the news horrendously loud?
I took a moment to calm down and actually get a good look at him to see who this was. He was clearly confused so I needed to figure this out myself. Alright let's see, red jacket, fluffy brown hair, jawline that could cut a person in half, black shirt, leather skinny jeans, beautiful brown eyes staring right into my soul, hyperrealistic handsomeness.
Wait a minute.
My jaw dropped to the floor, "Y-you...y-you look like that painting. Are you Kim Taehyung?"
He clasped his hands together excitedly, "Yes! I am! I am! You do know me! Oh yay!"
"There's a model in my dorm room...how did a model get in my dorm room?" I mumbled.
"I'm a model?!" He exclaimed.
"I've got a painting of you to prove it. In fact, where is that painting? I left it right where you're sitting," I remarked, bending down to look for the canvas. "It was a gigantic canvas, it couldn't have just disappeared."
"Oh you mean that one? It was huge and in the way of the couch. A blank canvas too. Sorry hero lady, but you've got a hoarding problem. You shouldn't keep useless junk," he scolded.
Blank canvas?
I followed his finger to where the canvas had been moved to, hoping to prove my point that this was the model. I went to the canvas picking it up, staring at it before my eyes bulged out of my head.
"Ahh! Where is the painting?!" I exclaimed. In my hands was indeed a blank canvas. The same size as the one I was given with the picture of the man that looked like the one of my couch. But it was blank. Completely white. "Th-that can't be. This must be the wrong canvas. Come on, it's around here somewhere."
My mind reeling from the information flying into it, tried to quickly rationalize the situation by tearing my dorm room a part brick by brick to find the canvas. I had a couple of paintings in my dorm stored away, so I violently rummaged through every drawer, closet, and box I could find, and searched every nook and cranny for it. But they were either too small or had the wrong picture on it.
This can't be. It was literally hear last night. It's a canvas, it can't go missing.
"Why are you trashing your apartment? Is that normal? Do people do that? Do I have an apartment?" He aimlessly rambled.
"Come on, come on, you have to be here somewhere, this doesn't make any sense," I grumbled.
"Lady...are you okay?" He asked hesitatingly.
"No! You're supposed to be the model of a painting I can't find," I huffed.
"I am handsome enough to model but I have absolutely zero knowledge of being one," he said.
Kim Taehyung is a model right? So there's got to be some information about him on the internet. If he was famous enough, lots of it. But even a minor model had a website or pages somewhere on the internet.
I typed in his name, hoping desperately for a Google search to pop up. But all that came up was a couple of social media pages for some old guys and a restaurant. I shook my head in disbelief, refreshing the page every five seconds. I added the word 'model' and 'painting' to specify more, but absolutely nothing came up.
I slowly looked back at the man staring at me with utter confusion.
"A-are you from an alternate universe?" I breathed out.
"Umm...not that I know of?" He raised an eyebrow confusedly, making a face as if I was the crazy one.
OhmygodIthinkmypaintingturnedintoahuman.
"Oh haha, would you look at the time, I've got to get to work. Silly me, aha. I'll be in the shower," I said, hurrying back to my room. "And hopefully you'll be a crazy nightmare that's going to disappear when I'm out," I mumbled to myself.
I did have work today, so there was no way I could deal with the crazy hangover scenario right now, but I also couldn't leave him in my dorm in case Haru came back. Not that this is real at all and this is only a simulation. I was hallucinating. And I declared that I was going to stop drinking alcohol.
There was no crazy painting man in my living room. I was just tired from last night, that is all. I was a creative person, maybe I was lucid dreaming up this handsome painting man coming to life.
I turned the water up extra hot just to make sure the pain was real.
Once I finished my shower, I dried and got out without even looking to see if he was still there. He had to be gone, right? Because he wasn't real of course.
I put on a nice sweater and jeans for the day, and quickly did my hair and makeup since I was running a bit late.
"Alright it was just a...dream..." I trailed off, seeing the painting man still in my living room, now eating my cereal.
"This stuff is scary. People going missing...without a trace. I hope you didn't kidnap or something," he remarked.
I stumbled back a bit, "Oh my god...my painting came to life."
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In the mood for a lighthearted, kinda kiddie book with a little fantasy element later down the road :)
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Picture Perfect | k.th
Fanfictionhe was nothing more than a few splotches on a canvas. she was his hero. cover creds: @expensivegorl_