bølgenes sang || seongsang

「chapter 12」: dårlig ide

A knock on the door interrupted Mingi's attempts at painting. He looked up from the canvas, half expecting the person at the door to be Yunho as he called for them to enter. But the tall elf's best friend set foot into the chambers instead, clothed in a beige coat lined with ice bear fur; his damp hair spilled over his shoulders in a chocolate red mess and his cold-flushed hands gently closed the door behind him. He greeted his friend with a smile.

As the siren brought his attention back to the questionable half-finished creation in front of him, the other quietly moved across the room and set his coat onto the backrest of a chair. Casually resting his hand on Mingi's shoulder, the elf stopped just behind him and watched his amateurish brush strokes bring color onto the canvas.

The siren clearly had no idea just what he was doing. He lacked any sort of technique, in no way understood even just the slightest bit of color theory and barely mixed any of the paint to create a greater variety of colors, in addition to this failing to properly clean the brush with every new color; though Jongho had to admit that he had gotten a lot better in comparison to the first painting. It brought him an unexplainable joy to watch his friend's progress, always looking forward to the excitement in his eyes when he presented his newest piece to him.

"It is not bad," he eventually stated into the silence, causing the siren to look up at him. His heart skipped a beat at the unexpected wish for approval in Mingi's eyes and how they almost begged him to tell him that he liked, maybe even loved, the painting so far; he had forgotten that a student would always seek the praise of their teacher, no matter the age difference or relationship of the two.

"Ye think so?" Mingi asked hopefully, the expectancy in his voice impossible to overhear. He closely watched Jongho as the younger regarded the canvas, who found the same pattern of mistakes that had stretched throughout all of the siren's previous work. He needed to teach him how to stop making them.

"Yes," the elf replied, "But let me show you something." He let go of the other's shoulder and moved to his other side, then leaned forward and got a hold of the siren's hand. After coating the tip of the brush in dark green paint, he silently demanded that his friend may take the brush; his index finger somewhat holding the brush in place, he closed his other hand around Mingi's.

A strange feeling surged up within his stomach as he explained the workings of this particular technique, a feeling he only knew from being around his dearest friend. The siren's soft skin caused a stir in him and he did not know whether to like it or not; regardless of this, his heart thumped unusually heavy in his chest and he was hyper aware of the contact of their hands. As he leaned over to gain better access to the left half of the painting, he supported himself on whatever it was that so conveniently sat there.

Only when Mingi cleared his throat, Jongho realized that he had been leaning onto the other's thigh. He looked up, his gaze meeting that of his friend and causing the latter to avert his eyes to the canvas in an attempt to avoid eye contact. By the look of it, he had not paid attention to anything the elf had been saying in the past two minutes.

Inwardly grinning to himself, he retracted his hands and took a step back. "Now try again," he instructed, watching the hesitant movements of the brush with satisfaction. Abashing the siren brought a great joy to him, seeing the typically present cool attitude vanish into thin air amused him. In the end, the guy was nothing but an adorable person beneath the facade of a charismatic and cold man.

"You did not listen to anything I just explained to you, did you?" he asked a few minutes later, crossing his arms in front of his chest. A shameful gaze met his eyes for just a second, then the siren lowered his head.