Perfect Imperfections

They paint :sob:

Zenitsu blinked, confused, as he watched Tanjiro take the cup of water away from him.

"I was gonna drink that." He reached for the cup, the other backing away so it's not in his reach.

"You're not going to drink this." Tanjiro poured it out in the sink, getting him a clean cup of water instead and filling up the other one. He set the unclean one next to the paints.

"Why not?"

"It's paint water. You can't drink paint water."

"Oh," was all Zenitsu said, returning back to his painting. Tanjiro sat next to him, watching him work.

It was always interesting watching him work. Blending colors on the paint pallet and then dabbing them on the canvas, uncertainty converting into confidence in his movements. It was admirable how he is able to turn a previously white canvas into a beautiful piece of artwork, and all it takes is paint and a little bit of determination to accomplish it.

As working as a graffiti artist and not a painter, Tanjiro doesn't know what to do when it comes to blending colors and all that. He's used to going with the flow and making abstract art with no goal set in mind, not aiming to look like something. The fact that Zenitsu is able to keep his mind set on one goal and achieve it on those canvases is inspiring, to say the least.

"You wanna try?" The blond prodded Tanjiro's arm with his elbow, bringing the latter back down to Earth. Zenitsu already knows his answer but asks anyway.

"No, I'm good." Tanjiro shrugged. "I'm better with spray cans."

"But painting is just like graffiti art! It's just... with a brush." Zenitsu awkwardly clenched his paintbrush, unsure of what to say or how to explain it. Unable to find the words, he softly sighs and looks back at his painting. "Nevermind."

"No, I get it, Van Gough." The blond laughed at that old nickname, nostalgia kicking in. "Man, I haven't called you that in a long time."

"Yeah, brings back memories..." Zenitsu trailed off, Tanjiro knowing what this means. He knew the blond doesn't like thinking about the past, considering that...

He picked up one of the spare brushes and paints half a white heart on the blond's face, completing it by pulling down his mask and painting the rest on his own. He softly pressed his cheek against Zenitsu's.

"Huh?" Zenitsu let out a confused noise, startled out of his own thoughts, and finds a little speck of white in his peripheral vision.

"For some reason, painting on your skin helps ground you. I don't get it, but if it helps," Tanjiro smiled, "it helps."

Zenitsu smiled back, grasping his hand. "Thanks."

"You're welcome- huh?"

He found the blond not-so-subtly sneaking a paintbrush into his hand. He chuckled to himself.

"You really want me to paint with you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well, alright." Hesitantly, he pressed the brush against the canvas. He was tense, a little nervous even. He didn't want to screw up the blond's hours of work. Painting is never easy if you're aiming for a certain goal.

At least he only had a small bit to fill in.

Dabbing a bit of dark blue a little to the right of the middle, he set the paintbrush in the cup of water as soon as he finished. Zenitsu smiled at him, gently.

"I like your style."

"I barely added anything."

"It's still nice." The blond started to put his stuff away, being careful to not drop or bump into the wet canvas. He reached for the cup of water to take a quick sip, only for Tanjiro to take it away again.

"Paint water."

"Oh, right."