⇱ 𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐚 ⇲

𝗜𝗜𝗜. 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗻𝘁

(𝗮𝗱𝗷.) 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲
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every living cell in Jeongukk's body was struggling for an intake of air. his already starved stomach dropped. the room began to rapidly glow with all different colors and his sense of direction was long gone. his world seemed to have been turned upside down, or rather, he had fallen into a parallel universe.
Jeongukk didn't know what was happening.
"I'm terribly sorry," a voice, one unfamiliar to Jeongukk whispered in a soft manner, "I had no intentions of startling you."
    suddenly, Jeongukk had forgotten he was still on the balcony of his small house. it felt like the ground beneath him had simply dissolved without a notice.
    "w-what?", he stumbled on his own words.
    "what are you, who are you? what are you doing in my head. no—fuck." his voice was strained with a thick sound of distress and utter confusion.
    "you'll see me around!" the voice said in a cheery tone.
    his unfinished painting fell to cold, hard balcony floor.
  -        
    Jeongukk woke up the next morning —or rather, night— on his paint-stained duvet. it was fluffy and smelled of a hazy honey and almost unnoticeable jasmine tea. his room was pitch black, other than the window showcasing the glistening moon. the moonlight lightly scanned over his face, making Jeongukk smile. a smile so warm and had the essence of a stardust yellow, his lips ever so slightly taking shape of a heart.
he then flipped on the switch for his fairy lights, only lightly illuminating the room. then, the events that took place on his balcony the past night boomed in the velvet walls of his mind.
    "fuck."
    "my, what terrible language..."  the unknown voice seemed to have materialized out of thin air.
    "shut up."
    "you're rather rude."
    "i said, shut up."
    at that moment, one of Jeongukk's paintings fell to the ground from its small frame. it was a detailed painting, one of a hand that seemed to have plants growing and overflowing in the palm. a rather soft-looking green and another green, but one that told a completely different story also manifested itself in the painting. there were three flowers growing out of the palm, each a very faint yellow, seemingly dusted with a light coat of brown.
    the painting began to swirl, the colors becoming almost indistinguishable. soon, the seemingly light brown swallowed the flowers whole, then moving on to the hands and next the canvas itself. brown paint began overrunning the entire canvas, even getting a few splashes on Jeongukk's dark hardwood floors.
   Jeongukk was petrified.
   the brown that once masked ravishing greens and yellows, had manifested into a shape of a young man, one seemingly near Jeongukks age. the boy in the painting seemed so delicate and fragile, emitting colors of pastel blues and blush pinks.
   he sat looking down, feet only slightly crossed from his ankles, while his hands delicately rested on his thighs. he wasn't sitting on anything, just floating in air. his hair was a hazelnut brown, fluffy and alluring.
   "your paintings are nice" , the painting said.