*beep! beep! beep!*
an annoyed groan left wooyoungs throat. today was just a normal day for him: wake up, go to uni, go to work, sleep for 5 hours. or 6 if he was lucky. and then the cycle would repeat, over and over, because what a joy it is to be jung wooyoung.
"have you woken up yet? i'm sure you don't want to be late, for what, the like 34th time this term? and we've only started a month ago." his best friend yeosang, like he always does, nagged at him.
"leave me be yeosang, what's even the time?" it was only 7am, uni started at 9am. wooyoung had loads of time to get ready, so he took his sweet time. although wooyoung and yeosang have been friends for what seems like forever now (only since highschool, so an odd 7ish years), there is some traits about him that annoys wooyoung, for example waking him up a whole 2 hours earlier than when he really needs to get up.
"if you're thinking about slacking then don't, your photography professor is already unhappy with your attendance, and so is your mother. so if i were you i would actually show up."
okay now he's starting to piss me off.
"im getting up because i WANT to, not because you told me to." wooyoung gave him a dirty look.
wooyoungs pov
as i was passing the wall of work, i came across a certain piece of art. said art that id been noticing a lot around this building, or the signature, might i add. it was a show of "C.S" with a star on the right hand side. i held up my camera which i take to my classes and took a few shots of it. i then began to find myself getting lost in the way the colours so perfectly combined, how they suited each other so well, how each brush stroke complimented the other, which was slightly different. so lost i didn't notice the person stood almost directly next to me.
"it amazes me to see someone with a camera gaze so fondly at a piece of art." i felt my head dash to my left, noticing the taller stranger.
"you do not think a photographer can enjoy such art?" i snapped back. it almost sounded as if he was judging me.
"i did not say that-"
"you think a photographer could not love art as much as a painter, or a dancer, or a musician, which by the way, are all different forms of art."
he snickered. why is he snickering? what's so funny about this?
"my deepest apologies, i just found it a little overwhelming witnessing a photograph being taken of my work."
"holy crap, this is yours?"
"do not sound so astonished." the stranger sounded offended.
"forgive me, however i did not think someone with such bad manners could create a piece of work this alluring." i sent a sarcastic smile back to him.
"are you saying you dislike my work or you dislike me?"
"quite the opposite, really. i think it's quite fascinating. i've been seeing similar pieces around the building, capturing photographs of them. i was quite impressed with them, the way the shadow over the lips portrays a feeling of warmth, yet also a feeling you can't describe, as if you've discovered something unique."
third persons pov
the artist looked at wooyoung in a way you could not describe. it was like he was almost astonished by the fact that someone else could understand his paintings as well as he could, although he was speechless with the amount of sass coming from the latter.
"what was your name again?" the stranger asked.
"wooyoung. jung wooyoung. and you? unless you go by some secret name because of the fame from your art." once again, sass naturally leaving wooyoungs mouth.
a giggle left the strangers mouth, almost laughing at each and every comeback wooyoung came with. "you're in first year arent you, i haven't seen you around much."
"that's right, first term and i already hate it. i've only made two friends and i do not particularly get along with my photography professor, considering the amount of lates i have."
"would you like to grab coffee? it's on me."
wooyoungs eyes shone at the mention of coffee. he'd already had his morning cup but it wouldn't harm him to have another, especially with the artist that creates the many pieces of art work he's so fond of. and so he said yes.
the two spent time talking about their different tastes in art. for wooyoung it was the way a camera can capture things the human eye cannot, and how a photo can say so much more than words, along with capturing memories one could look back on during a rainy day. for the artist it was the way he could unleash all emotions he'd held back as he grew older, and in the present time. along with the fact that he and his mother shared a love for paintings, having a collection in their home. over time, they bonded naturally, as if the universe had brought them together intentionally.
"you're quite the funny type, wooyoung. i would love to see more of you in the near future." the artist shamelessly flirted with him, or that's what wooyoung thought he was doing. a blush creeped up to his cheeks, bits of red peaking up from under his skin. so wooyoung replied. "i think i'd like that too."
"perfect. although i do have work to do, so i shall steal you another time i find you gawking at another piece of my work." he grabbed his bag along with his uniform (just a pair of painting overalls), nodding at wooyoung as a goodbye, then rushing out the door of the coffee shop they entered.
"wait! i didn't even-" it was too late, he'd already gone. "i didn't even get your name." he almost whispered, saddened by the fact he didn't know the elders name. hopefully they would find each other again, like the elder had said. on a day wooyoung was gawking at another piece of his work.
a/n:
this is my first story , so go easy on me🙏🏼
and leave a comment if you have any ideas or questions.
also, side ships will be included.
YOU ARE READING
Through Your Lens
Romance"it amazes me to see someone with a camera gaze so fondly at a piece of art." "you do not think a photographer can enjoy such art?"
