Everyone had that one odd question that they liked to ask themselves, when it was late at night and they were waiting for sleep to embrace them while staring at their ceiling, when they heard a single word that triggered that question in their mind, or when they had nothing to do but reply to their own odd questions.

 

There was only one question of that kind that Yixing liked to ask himself and if he were to voice it out loud, people would probably look at him oddly or find it offensive but it was one that he liked to think about when he had nothing to do. However, Yixing wouldn’t really mind it, he had often been told in the past that he was odd, special, or difficult to understand. He didn’t really think of himself as such, he was just a person amidst millions of others and where would the fun be if you could understand everyone you encountered without any difficulty? The most entertaining thing about life was to meet tons of people and work on figuring them out and Yixing knew that the same thing applied to him, if he was easy to understand then he would be boring. Not that he considered himself difficult to be understood, he had figured himself out a long time ago, when he had finally found the answer to the odd question that he liked to ask himself so often. If he were asked to keep only one of his three main senses, which one would he keep? What would be his two choices between being deaf, mute, or blind?

 

It might be a silly question, why would you ask yourself this kind of thing when there were people in this world who had not been able to choose the answer themselves and were victim of such things? However, was it really stupid? Yixing didn’t really think so. On the contrary, after years of deep reflection on this matter, he reached the conclusion that the answer to this question was very important and could reveal a big part of one’s personality. 

 

There were indeed four kinds of people in this world: those who lived through their eyes, those who lived through their ears, those who lived through their voice, and those who would never be able to live without depending on all three of these senses. The last kind was rather confident and confused all at the same time, if you were to ask Yixing. Those who replied that they would never be able to live without all their senses didn’t even want to think of a world where they would lack one of those three very important senses which was bad because wasn’t it better to think of a tragedy and imagine it happening before it actually did? They also didn’t know themselves enough to be able to find a reply to that, they weren't able to tell what they actually loved the most in life and that brought us to the three other kind of people in this world.

 

Those who chose to keep their hearing were people who would never be able to walk more than a few feet, drive for more than five minutes, or simply do nothing for a long time, without tucking their earphones in and letting a sweet melody slide into their brain. That kind of people never went out without something that would allow them to listen to music on their way, Yixing thought that they were the kind of people who were usually quiet and liked simply listening to things, people who liked listening to the sound of birds whipping in the morning when they woke up, people who liked the sound of the rain, people who were calming. Then, there was the people who chose to keep their voice out of those three options. Those people were the kind of people who hated walking for too long when they were alone, who hated driving alone, or waiting for the bus in the morning alone. Those kind of people liked to talk with their friends on the way to school, work, or any other place, they were the kind of people who would always get scolded by their teacher because they just talked too much during class. Yixing thought that they were the kind of people who put more importance to the lyrics of a song instead of the melody, the kind of people who always had to sing along to the song they listened to, the kind that managed to get themselves out of any situation thanks to their words.

 

Then, some people chose to keep their sight out of everything and after long minutes spent thinking about it, Yixing was now able to say that he was one of those people. The choice had been easy to make, he had never really had to think about it too much and there were so many reasons why Yixing would choose to keep his sight over anything else. He was from those who wouldn’t be able to wake up in the morning if they couldn’t see the sun rays seeping through the tiny slits in the blinds behind their window, those who spent more time looking out of the window in class than listening to their teacher’s bored voice, or from those who always noticed tiny details before anyone else did. Yixing was from those who were willing to walk for hours on end just to look around them and actually see, he was from those who found beauty in everything, even the littlest of things, and he would never be able to live without being able to see. He’d be okay with not hearing or not being able to speak as long as he’d be able to see and use his two hands to reproduce what he could see with paint, ink, long , splotches of colors, or thin brushes. He supposed it was the same thing for every painter, every aspiring artist who dedicated their life to canvases and paint stains on the tip of their fingers. His sight was his most precious connexion to his art and he’d never be able to live without his eyes.

 

Then, Yixing remembered that speaking was not even actually considered as one of the five senses and he wondered if all his thinking had been useless. Moreover, who was Yixing to actually study people’s mind? He was a painter, he paid more attention to the beauty of things and their appearances. Or at least that’s what people thought.

 

Even now, as he was walking along the small path that led to the park nearest to his campus, his eyes couldn’t help but trail around his surroundings, taking in everything that he had looked at hundreds of times before. However, there were still so many things to see, the green of the grass was different today, the dance of the leaves guided by Spring’s gentle breath was different, the screams of joy he heard around him were coming from different children, and all of it was so beautiful. His fingers itched to grab a pencil and sketch the kid who imagined himself flying as the swing reached higher, the little girl who imagined herself building her mother a new house as she played with the sand and a plastic shovel, and the young father that was waiting on the end of the slide, arms widen open to catch his child who looked a little scared up there, without anyone holding him in their arms. To anyone, it might be trivial sights that you’d encounter everyday, things that many people wouldn’t even spare a glance at but for Yixing, it was much more than that. It was joy, apprehension, love, and affection. He wanted to settle somewhere and pour all of it on his sketchbook as soon as possible.

 

He visited this park often, especially now that the cold seasons had left them alone and the weather was slowly warming up, he didn’t have to fear getting his fingers frozen as he held a pencil. His sketchbook was full of drawings inspired by whatever he’d see in this park, a child that was close to tears because he couldn’t find his parents for a few seconds, a little girl who played football with her father, the small lake behind the bushes, or even an old man who looked around himself with a mix of joy and sadness as he recalled the days his children begged him to come to that park. Those days were far away in the past, they barely even called him now. 

 

It was just so interesting to look around himself and imagine how people felt before trying to incorporate that emotion into each of his pencil against the white pages of his sketchbook. His feet took him to his usual spot and he settled on the ground, leaning his back against the tree that he always leaned against each time he came here. He pulled his sketchbook out of his backpack along with a well-sharpened pencil and flipped the pages until he found his last drawing, one of a little girl running after a butterfly and trying to catch it while several other kids were playing in the park behind her. It was one he had started last week and of course, the little girl was not here anymore but the park was still there and he needed to properly look at the details to make it as realistic as possible. Moreover, being surrounded by the emotion he wanted to pour into his drawing was better for Yixing. 

 

As soon as the tip of his pencil gave its first caress to the partially still white page, Yixing became engrossed in a world made out of picture in his head and swirls on the page. It was really noisy all around him, the laughter and screams of the children around him mixing in with the chirping of the birds nestled on the trees around him and dozens of other sounds but it all formed a sweet melody in his head, one that he poured into his drawing  for long minutes. The of his pencil on the page were precise, short, long, controlled, and filled with the experience of someone who had been drawing ever since they had been taught how to properly hold a pen between their small fingers. The more he drew, the more Yixing felt himself relaxing, every other thought in his head disappearing to leave way for a picture in his mind that he tried to reproduce on his sketchbook. 

 

It was rarely possible to catch Yixing’s attention whenever he was drawing, he barely could hear whatever was going on  around him and only focused on his task, ignoring everything else. He simply liked it that much, if it were humanly possible, he’d probably never ever stop drawing, he had just too many ideas and too many things to pour into the of his pencils and brushes. He had never experienced anything stronger than his love for drawing and he had always wanted to make it the only thing he’d have to focus on for his whole life, some would say it was a silly dream, art had changed, it wasn’t as easy now that there were so much more forms of art but Yixing didn’t really care. Wasn’t it better to be jobless and have a strong passion for what you we're doing than wasting your life by working on something that you’d wake up hating every single day? He had made his decision a long time ago and maybe he was lucky because his parents were supportive enough to let him study art, maybe that was also why he constantly tried improving, because he didn’t want to waste the trust his parents had put into him.

 

He could go on for hours just drawing, without eating, drinking, or any contact with anyone else. It wasn’t even something he did on purpose, he was just too focused to care about anything else and his mother used to scold him because of that but the woman had grown accustomed to it now. Not that she could do anything about it now that they weren’t living together since Yixing had moved in to a place closer to his school. The young man was decided on finishing this drawing today and start something completely different tomorrow therefore he had prepared himself to remain on this exact spot, back hunched over his sketchbook for hours without ever letting anything disturb him.

 

However, almost an hour after he had settled against that tree, something pulled him out of his focus and at first, Yixing was confused as he looked up from the drawing, gaze trailing around him as he tried looking for the source of that odd disturbance. It was as if he had been drawn to something he didn’t even know the existence of and he let his gaze trail around, eyebrows furrowed and pencil frozen against the paper. It was something sweet, something gentle, something nice. He couldn’t tell what it had been. Then, he heard it again. Crystal laughter, small bubbles of sound dancing around each other in the air, catching rainbows and reflecting them back  to whoever would look while creating a melody as gentle as the sound of waves washing over the beach, as clear as crystal beads twinkling together in a child’s hand, and as warm as the breeze of a summer afternoon. 

 

It sounded like summer. If Yixing were to describe summer, it would be the sound of this laughter. It felt like he had found summer while wandering around spring cluelessly. He had to find the owner of that laughter and his gaze trailed around even more furiously, focusing on his right since that was where the sound seemed to be coming from. When the same laughter reached his ears and his eyes slid a bit more to the right, Yixing wondered if it was possible for someone to be the exact representation of summer.

 

His breath hitched for a second when his gaze fell on the perfect picture of Summer that Yixing had always had in his head. There, standing a few feet away from him and heading towards one of the benches at the entrance of the park, there was a woman wearing a white dress that reached right above her knees, dancing a bit around her in gentle waves caused by the playful whispers of the wind. The pale skin of her legs seemed to be glowing under the sun and the weather might not be cold but it wasn’t too warm either so Yixing wondered if the woman might be eager to embrace Summer into her arms. She was facing away from Yixing as she continued walking, unaware of the wide pair of eyes that followed her around with wonder, however, the boy couldn’t really complain because it allowed him to properly admire the short blond strands that curled the slightest against her neck and grazed her shoulders. Each of her soft-looking strands seemed to hold a part of the sun in them, glowing brightly under the sky. Or maybe they were similar to the color of sunflowers that sought the ball of light up above them, shining, full of live, and bouncing joyfully against her neck with each step she took. Or maybe she was the sun and Yixing was the sunflower, he wasn’t sure but he certainly found himself eagerly following her with his eyes. 

 

As if the woman had heard his pleas, she turned her head to look down at the child strutting along with her and Yixing found himself even more surprised as he took in the pure joy that was splayed all over her side profile. She was pretty. Really pretty. Her wide smile was painted the color of strawberries, fresh and full of live as she laughed with the child she was holding the hand of, her button nose was adorable ad scrunched up the slightest as she smiled, and her eyes were the color of a pale summer sky, cloudless, joyful, and as welcoming as a warm ocean of freedom. Her whole presence screamed of joy and warm summer days and Yixing found himself unable to do anything but stare at her as she walked away to settle on the bench, near the swing. The little boy that was with her ran towards the swings and settled on one, waving to the woman with his hand before he started laughing and swinging himself in the air. She smiled back at him and Yixing’s fingers twitched, his pencil leaving a small trace on his perfect drawing.

 

For long minutes, he couldn’t do anything but look at the woman. She was like a painting. She was like the summer everyone yearned to embrace as quickly as possible. She was a picture he wanted to draw and without wasting another second, Yixing turned the page, forgetting his incomplete drawing to start a new one instead. His pencil danced on the paper furiously yet with he gentleness that he had sensed in the beautiful woman, until a dark grey silhouette could be discerned on the white page, the back of a beautiful woman whose hair was dancing along with the summer breeze, her white dress swinging around her legs, and her hand holding a child’s smaller one as she walked with a smile directed down at him. 

 

Hours went by like that, with Yixing hunch over his sketchbook while drawing that beautiful woman he had seen for no more than a few seconds. Usually, he’d need to stare at what he wanted to draw for long minutes, to grasp the feelings behind it and the emotion he wanted to pour into his art but this time, a few seconds were enough for him to know what he wanted to feel when looking at the result. He wanted to feel joy and carefreeness, the feelings that everyone went through at the beginning of summer, when school ended and you were giddy with the thought of maybe being able to go to the beach for the day. 

 

Almost three hours later, when Yixing was satisfied with what he had done, he straightened his back, groaning a bit as he heard his bones cracking faintly and he looked up at the sky for a few seconds to give his eyes the occasion to rest a bit before he looked down at his drawing again. At the sight, the corner of his lips tugged up into a smile that carried pride and he felt a gentle feeling bubbling in his chest as he looked at it for a few seconds. It was pretty despite not being the best thing he had ever drawn. There weren’t too many details, it was just a mere sketch of the scene he had witnessed earlier but he liked it, he liked the feeling that oozed from it, it made him smile and he hoped that if he were to ever show this particular drawing to someone, the person seeing it would smile too. He wondered if the woman on that single page of his sketchbook would smile if he were to show it to her.

 

With that thought, he raised his gaze, trailing to the place he had last seen her in, near the swings. However, when he found both the swing and the bench empty, Yixing’s smile slipped off his lips, disappointment bursting the bubbles in his chest one by one until only emptiness remained. Looking around, he noted that the park was almost empty and now that he paid more attention, it was indeed a bit chillier than when he had first arrived, children must have gone home, their parents preventing them from catching a cold. It was still just the beginning of spring after all but he had forgotten that when he was pouring summer into the single sheet of his sketchbook. 

 

He rolled his shoulders a bit to get rid of the feeling of soreness and reached for his phone in his backpack, thumb pressing on the home button to light up the screen. He scrunched his nose a bit when he saw that it was past five o’clock in the afternoon already and he sighed a bit. He enjoyed drawing but it was also very tiring and his body craved his bed now, he wanted to go to sleep and not wake up until tomorrow morning. He wondered if Summer would visit him in his dreams. That’s what he decided to call the young woman in his drawing, Summer. 

 

Eager to find out, Yixing carefully shoved his sketchbook, pencil, and phone into his backpack, making sure not to forget anything as he stood up and dusted his jeans off before swinging his backpack over his shoulders. He glanced at the bench that had been occupied by the young woman earlier a last time and even as he only saw the memory of her in his head, his fingers itched to draw her in so many places, angles, and occasions. 

 

Head full of ideas as light as a summer breeze, Yixing turned his back to the park and slowly walked towards his house, gaze trailing around him out of habit as he took in the beauty of the littlest things this world had to offer to his eyes. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he came back the day after, at the same time, Yixing had been disappointed to see that the park was empty of the glow the young woman he had seen the day before spread around with her presence. He had been sad at first and he had spent almost half an hour simply looking around instead of drawing, back leaned against his tree and sketchbook resting on his lap. Why wasn’t she there today? Yixing had never noticed her before so maybe it had only been a one time thing, maybe she would never return to the park. The thought had saddened him, he still remembered her clearly and would be able to draw her but he hadn’t been able to take a proper look at her, he would never be able to draw her accurately and what if he forgot her one day? 

 

It had been difficult to be able to draw after that, he had felt drained out of his inspiration and he simply recalled the way his fingers had itched to draw something as soon as he had heard the sound of Summer’s laughter. Would he ever be able to feel this way again? He hoped so, the rush of inspiration that had hit him when he had laid his eyes on her was something he wanted to feel again. It was odd to feel this way about a woman he had seen for no more than a few minutes considering the fact that she was nothing but a stranger, a beautiful stranger that reminded him of summer breezes. 

 

However, he didn’t think about it that much and simply had gone back to drawing, adding more details to the drawing of Summer for an hour before he had had enough and went back home, upset over nonsensical things.

 

When he woke up the next morning, he went to class, trying not to think about the fact that as soon as he had opened his eyes when his alarm had went off, the first thought that had blossomed in his mind was whether or not Summer would be at the park that afternoon. The weather was warm that day and maybe she would be there, wearing another dress, ready for the warm season. Classes had been long for the first time ever, as he listened to his teachers’ monotone voices, Yixing’s gaze either wandered to the window next to his seat or were fixed on his notes, fingers holding a pencil tightly as he doodled Summer on the corner of his notebook. It wasn’t much, just the shape of her smile and her blue eyes but his friends had seen him and when they had asked him who it was, the only thing he replied was Summer. They had given him odd looks but no one had said anything, they were all used to Yixing’s nonsensical words and maybe that was why they were all friends.

 

The only part of the day that had been interesting was his painting class and when they were all asked to paint a reproduction of the model the teacher had chosen, Yixing had been able to get rid of any stray thoughts by completely focusing on getting the proportions and details right. However, that had ended too and once the class was done and everyone was slowly leaving the classroom, he was once again left with his own thoughts of Summer. It was still early since he only had two classes that day and as soon as he was out of the school, his feet unconsciously took him to the park again. Not that he was only going there to see the beautiful woman from the other day, he went there everyday anyway so whether she’d be there or not, Yixing would still go there everyday. It was just so peaceful to draw there and if he were to see her again, then he’d only be able to observe her more properly. 

 

Maybe that was a little bit creepy but she was just one of the many beautiful things this world offered and that Yixing wanted to spend his life drawing and painting. Therefore, he simply walked to the park, footsteps slow and lazy as he looked around him, smiling at the flowers that had already started blooming and at the sweet aroma that tickled his nose. However, as soon as he was nearing the usual tree, gaze sliding towards the playground out of habit, he froze.

 

She was there. Summer was there.

 

She wasn’t wearing a dress today, just blue jeans, a white top and a denim jacket over it. Her blond hair wasn’t exactly dancing with the wind that day, she had a part of it tied messily, the other half falling over her nape with a few bangs cascading over her temples as well, but she was still beautiful, her smile was painted a pretty pink, almost the color of cherry blossoms and she was once again laughing at a little boy. Yixing didn’t know whether it was the same one as the other day, he hadn’t paid enough attention to her company that day and today wouldn’t be any different, his eyes were only gravitating towards her. She was still as bright and joyful as the last time and unsurprisingly, dozens of different pictures appeared in Yixing’s mind, bright, joyful, lively, and beautiful. Just like she was.

 

Without wasting any second, he dropped to the ground, leaning his back against the tree like he always did and got everything ready, one hand grabbing his sketchbook and the other grabbing yet another sharpened pencil. His gaze never once left her as this time, she wasn’t sitting on the bench but standing behind the little boy who was once again on the swing, her palms meeting his back again and again as she pushed him, only stopping when she deemed him to be going high enough. It took a few seconds for Yixing to notice that he had been staring at her for a few minutes and that a wide smile had stretched on his lips. He shook his head a bit, glancing down at his sketchbook. Was it possible to miss someone you had seen for only a few minutes two days ago for the fist time? Yixing thought that it was and it didn’t take him long to just plainly stare at the beautiful young woman again. 

 

She seemed to be conversing with the little boy, laughing at his words and Yixing noted once again that her nose scrunched up a bit endearingly when she smiled too widely, her teeth showing and her pink lips stretching in a beautiful curve. Then, she stepped away from the swing, heading towards the same bench as the last time instead, with small steps while one of her hands was shoved into her jacket’s pocked, looking for something. She wasn’t paying attention to her steps and she stumbled a bit, almost falling down while Yixing gasped, still observing her, and reached with his hand as if he could touch her and prevent her from falling. However, she didn’t need his help anyway and managed to catch herself before anything happened, looking around in what seemed to be embarrassment before shaking her head a bit in exasperation at herself. It was adorable and Yixing bit his lower lip a bit, hoping that his smile wasn’t too creepily wide. Without any other accident, she settled on the bench, the phone that she had found in her pocket held in her hand, thumb swiping over the screen once before her other thumb joined it as well and she started drumming on the device, probably typing a message. He wondered who she was speaking to. 

 

The wind blew a bit, her hair swirling a bit around her head, a few bangs getting caught up against her chin before her delicate fingers pushed them away and tucked them behind her ear. She was beautiful, she was a picture that Yixing wanted to paint and he didn’t waste a second, finally looking away from her and down at the blank page on his sketchbook. He pressed the tip of his pencil on the paper and drew her, sitting on the bench, smiling as she looked somewhere in front of her, hair a bit unruly from the wind, aura bright and positive. Drawing Summer was so calming, it made Yixing feel more relaxed than anything else had drawn before.

 

However, this time, he made sure not to only stare at his drawing and glanced up at her every few minutes instead, in order to make sure that she wouldn’t suddenly disappear like last time. She was beautiful and looking at her so much caused him to take longer to finish his drawing but it was okay because if he looked at her enough, then he'd be able to remember her even after she'd leave. He hoped she’d stay a long time but unfortunately, she left a little more than an hour later, the little boy dragging her out of the park and towards a destination Yixing had no idea about. Maybe their house, maybe the little boy was actually her younger brother. Yixing didn’t know but he stayed in the park, against his tree, even after they left, finishing up his drawing this time. It was beautiful, just like she was. He felt butterflies flying around in his chest and stomach just by staring at the smile of the young woman on the page of his sketchbook.

 

Somehow, it became a habit after that day, some kind of routine that Yixing enjoyed very much and couldn’t go on without. He came to the park everyday with the hope of seeing Summer and sometimes she wasn’t there and Yixing spent those days sulking to himself while drawing her or at least what he thought she’d look like in different occasions, while cooking, while running in a field of flowers, while looking up at a starry sky. However, sometimes she was in that park and Yixing could stare at her as she played with the little boy again or just sat on a bench and scrolled through something on her phone. Sometimes she was alone, other times she came with her friends, two other young women who made her laugh brightly and smiled just as brightly as well. However, Summer’s smile was the brightest and Yixing only had eyes for her, taking in each expression that she painted on her face, the mock exasperation towards her friends, the little glares she gave them, the find look she gave the little boy, the polite smile directed to elder people who sometimes conversed with her, and the excitement lighting up her features whenever she saw a dog playing somewhere in the park. He took everything in and retraced all of it with his pencil, pouring the emotions she spread around on his sheets of paper. 

 

He came to understand her schedule, she went to the park every Tuesday afternoon with her friends, every Saturday afternoon with the little boy and sometimes she’d pop off out of nowhere, without Yixing predicting it. He didn’t mind it, it made him incredibly happy and he had more material to draw. It was odd, the way he had stopped drawing anything else but that beautiful woman and weeks went by like that, with Yixing’s sketchbook slowly filling up with drawing of her and nothing else. However, he told himself that he always drew beautiful things he’d encounter in his everyday life and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes upon so it was only expected of him to draw her, right? He thought that it was and even if it might be a bit weird, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself anyway. She simply inspired him too much. 

 

However, he supposed that she was bound to notice how much he stared at her at some point and maybe he should have thought about the consequences it could bring. 

 

"Hey," he heard one day when he was once again solely focused on his drawing of Summer.

 

The weather was particularly nice that day and the breeze gently tickling his nape allowed him to completely focus on the short strands of hair that he was drawing. He didn’t immediately hear that someone was calling for him, too focused on his task and only when someone nudged his shoulder did he look up, the movement of his head slow since he had been hunched over his sketchbook for close to an hour now. 

 

As soon as he looked up, he narrowed his eyes a bit, the bright glow of the afternoon sun pouring into his eyes too strongly for him to be able to see anything properly. He didn’t recognize her at first but once his eyes were used to the bright shine that came from the sun – or that maybe came from the person in front of him, he wasn’t really sure – Yixing blinked in surprise. He took in the sea of sunlight that short strands of hair had captured, tickling the shoulders of their owner, her lips painted a beautiful cherry-blossom pink, her fair skin that seemed to glow under the spring sky, and the sea of blue that looked at him pointedly.

 

It was her. It was Summer. And she was really beautiful from a closer distance, the name Yixing had given her in his head suited her very well.

 

However, she didn’t seem to be happy today.

 

"Hey, can you hear me?" the young woman snapped and Yixing noticed for the first time that her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked down at him. 

 

"Huh?" was all he could say at first, staring up at her stupidly before he scrambled to stand up instead, sketchbook in one hand and pencil in the other one as he looked at her in confusion. The only thought that went through his head was that she was really beautiful and that he had gotten the shape of her nose wrong all this time in his drawings.

 

"I asked you why you were staring at me so much," she repeated what Yixing had not heard and the later widened his eyes a bit in surprise.

 

Did he really get caught? How? "What?" he asked, once again very stupidly.

 

The young woman sighed in exasperation before explaining herself. "My friends always catch you looking at me for too long whenever we’re hanging out in this park and I’ve noticed it too a few days ago. I was wondering why and I’d like to ask you to stop, it makes me uncomfortable," she muttered, looking away from him as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

"Uncomfortable?" Yixing repeated, frowning a bit as well. He never really thought it would have that effect on her. "I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you feel that way," he apologized immediately, hoping that she wouldn’t think of him as a creepy guy who stared at her for hours, which he technically was.

 

The woman observed him for a few seconds before shaking her head and smiling a bit. 

 

"It’s okay, it just feels weird," she explained before her gaze trailed down to his hands. "You’re also always scribbling something in that notebook whenever you’re looking at me. What are you doing?" she asked and he could see that she was getting all suspicious again.

 

How could he explain her that he was drawing her? Wouldn’t that make him look creepier than he already did? Well, at least, he would be a creep and not a liar.

 

"It’s nothing much, I’m just… drawing you," replied after hesitating.

 

"What?" was the only thing Yixing heard before everything that happened next did in a blur of movements.

 

He barely had time to see the other’s expression being invaded by so many negative feelings before his sketchbook was snatched away from his hand and ended up in the young woman’s. She opened it to the last page before Yixing could even protest, eyes widening as she looked at the latest drawing he had been working on. It was one of her on the verge of falling asleep as she was sitting on the usual bench in the park, a flower held between her fingers and a smile lingering on her lips. He had started it the last time he had seen her, two days ago and he had not predicted her reaction when tracing those gentle curves on the paper, he hadn’t imagined her shaking her head furiously before ripping the page away from the sketchbook.

 

"What are you doing?!" Yixing screamed, almost hysterically as he tried taking the sketchbook away from her.

 

"Why the hell are you drawing me?! There’s so many of these," she gasped as she came across the many other drawings Yixing had of her.

 

His eyes widened as she continued ripping away the pages of his sketchbook in something akin to panic and he was so surprised that he couldn’t do anything for a few seconds before finally, he decided to put a stop to it. He couldn’t bear the sight because more than the fact that she was reacting so badly to it, the way she was disrespecting his art in such a way hurt him.

 

He snatched his sketchbook away from her hands, glad that he was physically stronger than her even if she did try to keep it. They both tugged at it together, trying to keep it in their hands while probably looking ridiculous against that tree with ripped pieces of paper at their feet. However, Yixing had to save what he had worked on for long hours, drawings he poured his heart into. 

 

"Stop!" he raised his voice even if it was something he hated doing, especially to women, and finally pulled the sketchbook away from her hands.

 

He felt his heart squeezing in his chest as he observed the damages she had caused to everything he had worked on so hard and he tried understanding her, it must not be pleasant to find out that someone was staring at you creepily and then drawing dozens of pictures of you but was it really bad enough for her to do this? Yixing didn’t think so.

 

"How can you destroy things I worked on for so long?" he asked her, frowning as he tried flattening the rumbled pages on his sketchbook. She had ripped of three of his drawings and they were only ones of her but it didn’t change the fact that they were things he had worked on hard, other pages were also in a  rather bad state.

 

"It’s insulting and creepy," she defended herself and she did look a bit regretful, as if what she had done had happened in a fit of rage and panic but it didn’t really change the result.

 

"Insulting?" Yixing snorted and this was the most angry he had ever felt. Angry and hurt. "I’m an artist who draws everything I find beautiful and you happen to be one of those things. How is that insulting?" 

 

He crouched down while speaking, gathering up the ripped pieces of his drawings while biting his lower lip to contain his disappointment. This was so unfair, he couldn’t even actually get angry at her because she had been so beautiful when she was angry. The perfect representation of what Yixing thought a summer storm would look like if it had a human representation, the blue sky suddenly turning grey, the gentle warm breeze suddenly suffocating everyone who felt it, and the sound of birds’ chirping wiped away by thunder.

 

"Just… Don’t do this again, I don’t want you to draw me," she said after a while and Yixing looked up at her when he noted the way her voice had been shaking a little bit.

 

However, by the time he was looking up, she had already turned her back to him and was striding towards the exit of the park, steps quick and rushed. Yixing looked at her retreating figure until he couldn’t see her anymore. Only then did he look down at his ripped sketchbook and the pieces of paper on the ground again, gathering them and trying to decipher which drawings they were, heart heavy with an odd mix between anger, guilt, and inspiration.

 

When he went back home that night, he spent hours hunched over his desk, painting one of the best landscapes he had ever put into paper, a beautifully dangerous storm that looked full of life and emotions. Without noticing, as he was drawing, he had stopped addressing her as Summer in his head and had switched it up to calling her his Muse instead. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Why’s he sulking like that?"

 

"I don’t know, he’s been this way for two days and it’s starting to be weird. Weirder than usual, I mean."

 

Yixing quietly ignored his two friends’ words, not in the mood to humor them or bring any enlightenment to the questions they’ve been asking since yesterday. He didn’t really want to do anything, he was just waiting for this class to end so he could go home and mourn the loss of his Muse while recalling for what was probably the hundredth time the way she had rejected him so harshly after a single sentence. Not that he had really lost inspiration, he still had so many pictures in his head that  he wanted to bring to life on paper but the thing that held him back was that she was in all those pictures in his head and despite wanting to draw them and even feeling ready to draw them, each time he took a pencil into his hand with that intention, he remembered her words. She had said that his drawings were an insult to her.

 

An insult. The thing Yixing took the most pleasure out of doing was a mere insult to her, something that she didn’t want him to do and he felt emptiness fill his soul at the mere thought of never drawing her again. It might be silly since as long as they didn’t run into each other again, there was no way she would know that he was drawing her but if she didn’t like it then Yixing wouldn’t do it. She was the prettiest when she smiled and the summer storm she had lunched on him that day had been breathtaking in so many ways but he preferred her to be a bright and colorful summer morning instead of a storm.

He had gotten rejected before even being able to form a decent sentence in front of her.

 

His hand violently fell forward with that thought, the pencil he was holding leaving a big and dark scratch that was far from being as soft-looking as this week’s class’ model looked. He let out a groan that was halfway between a sob and a mocking chuckle at himself. 

 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Baekhyun, one of his closest friends, asked from beside him, as direct as he has always been.

 

"Why are you being so mean, can’t you see he’s not feeling well?" Minseok protested from Baekhyun’s side and when Yixing turned to his right, he saw that Baekhyun had turned away from him to glare at Minseok instead.

 

He sighed. His Muse had glared at him this way too. He groaned again, loud enough for some of his classmates to turn and give him odd looks.

 

"What could have happened? He’s probably high on something weird," Baekhyun snorted as he turned back to his own canvas.

 

"He’s not in high school anymore," he heard Minseok snort as well.

 

"Exactly, that makes it worse," Baekhyun started laughing obnoxiously, probably reminiscing the times they all used to do very unmoral things that costed way too much for mere high school students.

 

"Guys," Yixing finally groaned when he was fed up with listening to them speculate about his problems. "Shut up, I can’t hear the teacher."

 

"As if you were even listening to her," Baekhyun mumbled before quieting down, his attention drifting to the woman at the center of the room.

 

It might be true that Yixing had not been listening to her until now but if he were to choose between listening to her giving them boring information that most of them a