not what you think

xii: n-7

A specific boyish hand douses his brush in a canister of coal black, swirling in a meticulous motion to smear the tinge in its fullness. The brush locomotes, unhesitating and with conviction in the canvas, magnifying the picturesque outlook in front of its artist. The said artist has acuteness in his flawless pair of eyes, coupled with a glister uniquely kept for his relentless passion, his one true finding.

Another boy is positioned on the queen sized bed, back against the ridiculously soft comforter, head against the pillow. He views nothing but the ceiling, amidst sporadic fluttering of his eyes, the necessity of a nap overwhelming his senses. He awaits the younger's art piece to be over and done with. His concise patience treads him to ask the burning question.

"Taehyung-ah?", the mellow voice lightly addresses the younger.

"Yes, Jiminie?", the younger replies, dousing the rather thin bristle brush onto the canister yet again.

"Can we actually do something? I've been here since lunchtime but you didn't even bother to spare time for me for more than ten minutes," Jimin says in an exasperated tone, putting effort to make his temperament perceptible to the younger, "At least play a round of Super Mario Kart with me?"

"I need to submit this to my homeroom teacher by tomorrow, we can't play Super Mario Kart today," Taehyung voices, accentuating the shrubs painted a few hours ago, stranded to parch, being oblivious to the knitted brows and irked expression of the other boy.

"You've been at this for a whole month and I have no one else to play with," Jimin prods the younger, manifesting the wish to be able to relish the gaming of clearing levels and forging a newer personal milestone.

"Jimin," Taehyung heaves a sigh, swirling to the older, an apologetic and somewhat flurried expression on his profile, "This competition is important because this might be the only way to prove my skill. It might even lend me a scholarship overseas. We were joined by the hip over half of a month's vacation, I need to take a breather from all these playing."

Jimin seems to leer at the younger in a stumped fashion for mere seconds before nodding in thoughtfulness, much to his disinclination, "I see. I'll see you tomorrow at school. Good luck with the painting," Sparing a short-lived view at the artwork, before treading to the staircase outside of Taehyung's threshold.

"Jimin-ah! Jiminie!", Taehyung bellows, but no retort from the older one. Only footsteps resounding to the main door.

Taehyung heaves another sigh, gliding his hands through his tresses, swirling back to his work, conjuring a mental note to indulge him in jajangmyeon prior to viewing the sunset together, tomorrow.

He douses the willowy brush in an elfin jar of jet black, to underscore the cornflowers and baby cosmoses. The daisies, yarrows, hyacinths, scabiosas, poppies and lily on the nile soaring atop the other flowers were accentuated in the companionship of his best friend, save for the fronds and the twin honeybees.

To his mild awe, another reticent half an hour later, Taehyung perceives the painting to be brought to fruition.

"I think I need an afternoon snack, because I'm hungry," Taehyung murmurs, lathering with his adored lavender scented scrub upon entering his bath before nearly freewheeling down the right wing of the twin stairs in his chateau like edifice emerging from the second floor, a towel lazily hung on his shoulders.

"Decided to show up for a snack?", A female voice resounds from the living room, one hand accommodating a few loose papers, inked with statements meant to itemize her study, a highlighter on the other. Her tresses are bound in a loose low bun, few stray ringlets tracing her visual.

"You've been cooped up in your room since this morning. Mind telling me why did I see an upset Jimin running out the door?"

Taehyung clutches on a packet of chips before sprinting beside the older one, mounting on the couch.