Portrait

minghao was struggling.

he's been staring at this white canvas for 30 minutes, but nothing came to mind. normally, he would paint how he feels or just go with the flow, maybe even sketch in one of his many sketchbooks, but no. his mind is exactly like the canvas, blank.

minghao exhaled sharply and looked around his art room. various paint filled canvases decorated the walls, little clay sculptures of trees and interesting shapes sit on some of the tables, the door painted black with white paint speckled all over, '徐明浩' also painted in white with drips running all the way down to the floor, and the intentional paint splatters, handprints, and footprints littered the white floors and walls themselves. it really was beautiful.

minghao's art room is like a safe place.

it's a place where he can be himself and let himself go, just painting, sculpting, or drawing whatever he wants. in a way, minghao likes to think his art room is a lot like his mind. the deep recesses of his mind are in here, the times he painted out of anger and sadness, the same paintings drab in color or extremely bold in technique. the time he realized he was in love, the vibrant red and pink fingerprints littered the canvas along with huge globs of black paint shaped in hearts sat just above the door.

many memories liked to hang out in here too, a small, circular clay sculpture painted orange and green reminded him of his love. he keeps it by him on a small table by his easel, likes to call it his lucky charm. the lampshade in the corner of the room was decorated with small painted details that symbolized each of his friends, the time his love decorated the white egg chair by the window with strategically placed splatters of fabric paint, the stripes forming the order of a rainbow, and little baby pink and muted periwinkle hearts were speckled on the big white pillow in the chair itself. minghao made sure to take plenty of pictures that day (they're pinned on a board in the kitchen). and little '8's painted on the ceiling and some on the window, just for extra luck. but as minghao looked back at the canvas, it was clear the luck wasn't working. he was in such a painting mood today, but once he actually got the paint out, his brain decided to stop working.

he sighed while pushing up his big glasses frames and started to call it a day, but the door creaked open, revealing his love holding a small bowl of grapes, and a glass of water.

"hyung, you've been in here for about 40 minutes and i know you haven't eaten!"

"ah seungkwan..."

seungkwan put the grapes and water down on the table beside minghao, and stared at the canvas that was currently occupying minghao's vision.

"there's- there's nothing there?"

seungkwan squinted his eyes, trying to see if minghao made a single brush stroke or fingerprint with white paint, only to find nothing.

"what's wrong?"

seungkwan looked at minghao with concern, he wouldn't normally just stare at a blank canvas for an hour.

"nothing is wrong, i was in a painting mood today but my mind just-"

minghao looked at seungkwan.

"my mind just.."

minghao stared at seungkwan, who looked at him straight in his eyes. minghao smiled at the way seungkwan's ears started to go pink, then the light bulb went off in his brain.

"do you mind staying in here for a bit?"

seungkwan hesitantly nodded.

"just eat okay?"

minghao nodded at seungkwan, and then got to work.

he got out multiple tubes of paint, ate a grape ( and looked at seungkwan and smiled), and took a sip of the water before deciding to use that as his paint water.

minghao's plan was to paint seungkwan, to put it quite simply.

he wanted to capture everything seungkwan had onto this painting, every little detail and every little habit. the stars he held in his eyes and the stars on the side of his face, the bright smile that lit up the entire room, the lips that spoke such nonsense at times, but also spoke with the most passion. the ears that go pink with every small compliment or look directed at him, even the way he carries himself, the way he moves his hands around and the way he sings like it'll be his last time, every time. and before he knew it, minghao was done with the painting. he was quite surprised seeing the sun about to set, and he wondered if seungkwan fell asleep. but he looked over and saw seungkwan sitting in the egg chair, smiling softly while looking at minghao.

"are you done? you must be, that's the first time you looked at me since you started."

seungkwan exclaimed, completely void of anger, only fascinated at how much minghao was focused.

"yeah.. yeah i am."

minghao asked seungkwan to come over to look at the painting, it obviously wasn't dry yet, but minghao really wanted seungkwan to see this now.

"wow.."

seungkwan was looking at a sunset in a grassy field, a single tree with some fruit he recognized as tangerines blew in the wind off to the side of the painting, and above the gradient of colors coming from the sunset, were stars and a constellation that he had never seen before.

"this is beautiful.. where did you see this? or how did you come up with it?"

seungkwan asked minghao, still looking at the painting.

"this is you, seungkwan."

seungkwan finally looked at minghao, eyes wide and head tilted slightly.

"me? this is me?? how?"

seungkwan questioned, and minghao explained. he explained everything from the stars to the grass, and seungkwan's eyes were wet with tears yet to fall.

"god your mind- i love you."

seungkwan leaned in for a kiss, and minghao obliged with a smile.

"i love you too."

-

once the paint dried fully the day after, minghao put the painting up by the egg chair, and called it seungkwan's little corner. after all, seungkwan always did occupy a corner of his mind.