Two close friends, one usually reticent and the other overly vocal. One soft, the other somewhat coarse. Perfectly coiffed long, black hair contrasted with tousled white spikes. Night and Day. Perhaps you should have reconsidered your silly idea for...
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Popular, beautiful yet harsh - they're the most desired men on the college grounds, but to you, they're your private muses. Your final project, it needs to be impactful, profound and impeccable - and Gojo and Geto personify all that. Yet, maybe they don't.
By investing your time with them, snapping photos, feeling the warmth of their skin, and capturing every soft exhale, you start to see their imperfections. It wasn't anticipated that you'd comprehend their inherent flaws, yet they constantly draw you in. You lean on them for artistic stimulation - at times, though, the boundaries become obscure, the paint smudges, colors bleed, and emotions conflict.
Perfection isn't a part of their nature, yet they are ardently dedicated to presenting it to you. They see you as a delicate lamb they struggle to protect, rather than harm... to preserve, rather than taint. You are nothing more than a plaything for these lions, a puppet swaying on a string around their fingers. They make great efforts to conceal their distorted versions of perfection from you, trying not to burst your naïve image of them.
After all, can an artist truly thrive without their source of inspiration, a hunter without their pursuit? A butcher refusing to carve? They can't let you expose their flawless imperfections, to transform the hunted into the hunter.
