Art Gallery ~ minsung

8th February

Jisung's POV

I woke up as we were laying naked in bed. It wasn't very clear why we had decided to say no to clothes, given that it was freezing outside, snow persisting for days now. But we did anyway. 

I looked up at the roof. There was something I needed to get out, suddenly, something that whispered a new shade to paint. A shade so purple, so overflowing with pure passion.

I gazed over at Minho and found the reason for that sudden idea. It was his influence on me that gave me such a feeling. 

He was still sleeping, since he was going through many more stressful moments than I did, which made him tired and in need of a good nap. I barely stepped out of my house, the cold being so evil to me. Instead he insisted on going to work, almost every day, for long hours, and for how much he could love his job, it still grabbed such a big amount of energy from him.

I stopped to stare at him. It was a habit that I wanted to have for eternity. While he was sleeping, I had all the time to stop my gaze on each and every feature of his breath-taking face.

But the thought of that shade wouldn't leave my mind.

So I tried to get out of his embrace, which was holding me incredibly tight, even in his sleep. Only now I noticed that the sunrise had barely started and it was early in the morning. 

Though it was so hard to get up. The more I tried to pull away without waking him up, the more his arms brought me closer to his chest. I just couldn't go. 

Then he suddenly woke up. A smile formed on his lips, which made me do the same. He squeezed me even closer, almost making it difficult for me to breathe. Our faces were now only a pair of inches apart. 

"Good morning." I brought the palm of my hand to his cheek. He got me lost so easily.

"Good morning love." He whispered back, placing a little kiss on my lips, closing his eyes.

He didn't open them back though. He just made himself more comfortable, exhaled, roamed his hand along my naked back. I noticed, he wouldn't let me go anytime soon. 

"Hey, I need to paint something." 

The first time I told him this, I felt so embarrassed. I knew it wasn't really a thing to prioritize a painting idea over such a warm embrace, but somehow it was a need that I had to satisfy, just like eating when you're hungry, drinking when you're thirsty, sleeping when you're tired. It was a primary need, just like Minho was. Him and painting were at the same level, so sometimes I gave priority to one over the other. 

That one time I was afraid that Minho would be mad at me. Well, he had all the reasons. Detaching just to trace a pair of lines on a canvas? This was really mad shit. 

But it was crucially important for me. Somehow he understood, he thought it cute even, he liked to give me my own space every now and then. He never got mad at me for having ideas in the worst moments. 

"What is it this time?"

He was curious. That was just one more thing I absolutely adored about him. Whenever I told him I had an idea, he always wanted to know what it was. He always wanted to get to know what my mind created. 

"Another shade. Purple. I need a purple that reminds me of you. It's a secret between us, no one will know it represents us. I need a purple that perfectly balances red and blue, as in the good times and in the bad ones, but the purple hides them both, because it is stronger than the red and the blue alone."

The corners of Minho's mouth slightly moved upwards, making his lips press one over the other. He still wouldn't open his eyes and didn't even move an inch away. I knew he didn't want to.