In This Light; Soonhoon

act five

➴ scene 1

SOONYOUNG LIKES THE dip of Jihoon's collarbone, he likes the shadow slipping between it, his hands working the palette with an expert sort of ease and his knuckles turned pink from concentration and from cold. Soonyoung likes the look on his face when he focuses really hard, but he likes it even more when it softens, when he focuses less on his work and more on Soonyoung.

"Don't think about it too much," is what he says, and Soonyoung squints, confused. "Your exam," Jihoon clarifies. "I'm sure you did better than you think."

"Oh. Do I look like I'm worried?"

"You look like you're thinking, but don't get too into your own head about it - unless you were thinking about something else - ?"

You, Soonyoung's brain supplies. I was thinking about you. Jesus, you're pretty. He almost hits himself - he really should stop - but he just smiles, instead. "Nah, I'm not stressing. I mean, I probably bombed it, but I'll be fine. It's only one grade." Jihoon hums.

"Wish I could think a little more like that. I - I think I go a little too hard on myself when things don't go well. Like, grades, I mean."

"Wait, you, a little too hard on yourself?" Soonyoung's eyes go comically wide and he sits up, feigning seriousness. "No way. Doesn't sound realistic." Jihoon laughs softly.

"Crazy, I know."

They're in Jihoon's dorm, squeezed between cramped walls and furniture and the hoard of knick-knacks Jihoon has collected over time. Looking at him only, Soonyoung would have assumed he's the type to keep super neat, organized minimalist with everything kept tidy and in place. Jihoon's living space says the exact opposite.

"I'm not dirty," is what he'd said the first time Soonyoung stepped past his door. "Like, everything's clean. There's just ... a lot of stuff. Everywhere."

Like random, paint-stained jars hidden in corners and left on shelves, books scattered here and there with the pages torn out (Jihoon says he used them for a collage project, but a lot of the scraps ended up being tucked between Marvel figurines and textbooks); there are brushes sitting here and there and pastels, palettes, colored pencils and even chalk laying about. Soonyoung's taken it upon himself to spread out over the only clear space in the room - the bed, effectively forcing Jihoon to work on the floor. He's sitting on a pillow with his canvas propped up against the leg of his desk.

"You choose to live like this," Soonyoung had told him when he complained. "And I'm a guest, so. I'm allowed to be more comfortable than you." Jihoon didn't put up much of a fight after that.

He says, "I just can't help thinking about my parents, you know," and it takes Soonyoung a moment to realize that they're still talking about grades. "It took a lot out of them, getting me into this school. I feel like I gotta make them proud, make it worth all the sacrifice."

"You know they're always proud of you, no matter what," Soonyoung says, and it almost comes out bitter - almost. "A low score every once in a while isn't going to change that."

"I guess ... but I still worry. Especially at times like these - I'm visiting home next week, y'know? I want to be able to spend time with them and tell them how good I'm doing, and I want to mean it." Rolling his eyes, Soonyoung tsks.

"Trust me, you're going to be just fine. You're a model student and an insanely talented artist, you don't have much of a choice but to impress them." He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice has gone softer, somehow. "It's nice that you'll be seeing them."