"Loving you is art and your body is my canvas."
❝Wherein a portraitist who seems to have lost his love for art meets an ethereal young boy with stars in his eyes in a city full of secrets. A tale of bliss and tragedy, death and misfortune, but most...
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ˏ𓏧𓏲𓏲𓏲𓋒𓏲𓏲𓏲𓏲𓏧 ˎ
Taehyung had long dismissed the idea of miracles. That belief wavered, then shattered, seeing Jeongguk sprawled across his bed, chest rising and falling after the night's passionate fervor. Words failed him, fragmented into meaningless syllables in the presence of Jeongguk's transcendent beauty. He resolved not to leave the bed, wanting this vision of the boy etched forever in his memory.
"That's it," he mused, a faint smile gracing his lips. "That's how I want to remember him."
"Good morning, beautiful," Taehyung chimed, though Jeongguk remained unresponsive, still drowsy from sleep. "Ah, adorable," Taehyung teased, pinching his cheek gently, bringing the boy back to the present.
"Mm... Where am I?" Jeongguk mumbled, his tousled hair and husky voice rendering him utterly endearing in Taehyung's eyes.
"In my bed," the man replied teasingly, causing Jeongguk to panic.
"Oh no, Hoseok's going to kill me," the boy fretted, nervously biting his nails. Taehyung gently removed his fingers from his mouth, watching Jeongguk's eyes widen. It was rare for him to curse; Hoseok had a unique way of bringing out the worst in him.
"Shh, who cares about him? Let's enjoy a little more time together, hm?" Taehyung suggested persuasively, patting Jeongguk's head with tenderness.
The boy agreed, "Okay, but only cuddles. Nothing else." He enjoyed their previous night's intimacy, yet knew the situation was wrong. Not just because they were both men, but because they were different in ways that seemed insurmountable. However, stopping felt nearly impossible when Taehyung was a captivating temptation, and Jeongguk longed to be engulfed in his breathless allure again and again.
"You're tensing up," Taehyung observed, his lips tracing from Jeongguk's sharp jaw down to his collarbone, adorning his porcelain skin with more hickeys, despite the bruises already there.
"Taehyung," Jeongguk breathed, entranced, caught in a love that was both sweet and dangerous, clouding his judgment and heart. He allowed Taehyung to claim him once more, indulging in a taste of morning intimacy before they began their day.
For nearly a week, they met daily, striving to complete the portrait shortly, yet continuously finding ways to occupy themselves otherwise. Still, Taehyung felt content. He knew his masterpiece would eventually reach completion, just as he knew his time in Venice was sadly fleeting as they come. He preferred not to dwell on it.
"Can you believe it?" Taehyung asked Namjoon one day as they wandered Venice's quiet streets, savoring ice cream. He shared the miraculous revival of his inspiration after feeling like a talentless failure for so long.
"No, not really," Namjoon laughed, pausing to taste his gelato. "I thought you'd given up and resorted to getting wasted every night... You know, typical Taehyung behavior."
"Well, guess what," Taehyung beamed at Namjoon, "I've been revitalized. I feel like I'm returning to my old self," excitement seeping through his words.
Namjoon looked puzzled for a moment. "You've met someone," he stated after a tension-filled break, growing curious. Taehyung's faint blushing confirmed his suspicions. "Tell me more. If you want to, that is."
"Oh, you wouldn't understand," Taehyung replied curtly, anticipating judgment for his affair with a boy he'd recently met.
"Trust me, I might," Namjoon countered. "I've had my share of muses when I was younger. Seokjin was one of them." Reflecting, he continued, "Looking back, he influenced my poetry more than I did." The term 'muses' lingered stealthily in Taehyung's thoughts.
"Muses?" he asked, subtly amused.
"Yes," Namjoon explained, "a muse fuels your creative drive, allowing limitless inspiration to flow through you. It's a true blessing."
Those words set off a rush of adrenaline in Taehyung as if an unknown force suddenly possessed him. Jeongguk was his muse, igniting his creativity. A treasure he wished to protect and keep hidden, reserved solely for himself.
"But be cautious," Namjoon warned, breaking Taehyung's reverie. "It can get overwhelming. An artist's full potential can be a powerful force."
"Full potential?" Taehyung queried, glancing around, sensing an odd stillness in the air, making him dizzy.
"Yes, it's like having the world at your feet. But as much as you can make use of it, you can also destroy it," Namjoon unfurled, leaving Taehyung with a nagging guilt he couldn't pinpoint. Creation and destruction, two sides of the same coin.
His thoughts disrupted, Taehyung halted in the street, fixating on a particular shop sign: "Traditional Venetian Masks, Atelier Del Giglio." The showcase displayed an array of masks, some elegant, others eerie, captivating his attention. Among them, a golden hare-shaped mask stood out.
"How much do you think these cost?" Taehyung asked Namjoon, pointing at the shop's display.
"Thirty euros or more, depending on the model," Namjoon replied casually, curious about Taehyung's sudden interest. "Why?"
"No reason." Taehyung smirked to himself, all the more eager to show Jeongguk a special surprise that night.
"Like I said," Namjoon continued, "be cautious with your gift. It could consume you."
"Please, I won't succumb to madness over a mere painting," Taehyung scoffed, masking the overreaching thoughts of Jeongguk swirling within. They'd become entangled, the days spent in each other's presence almost addicting. Yet, Namjoon couldn't fathom the depth of Taehyung's fixation on the enigmatic boy, someone who occupied his every waking moment by then.
"Promise me you won't lose yourself," Namjoon urged, his dimpled smile carrying a weight of concern.
"I promise," Taehyung assured, a giggle escaping him as he playfully nudged Namjoon, causing his friend to stumble over his own foot.
After their parting, Taehyung's buoyant facade dissipated, revealing a more profound contemplation. A frenzied anticipation brewed within him, perhaps fueled by the imminent visit of Jeongguk.
As he stepped back into his hotel room, Taehyung was drawn to the canvas awaiting him. There, tears cascaded down the painted boy's face, stark and surreal. Touching the wet paint with trembling fingers, his heart raced. The portrait depicted a weeping visage, a perplexing and unnerving sight that seemed to stare back at him.
