"I'd like you to go out this weekend."
Baekho started as the students were busily packing their materials at the end of class.
Some of the girls snickered to his statement and Baekho felt the tips of his ears burn.
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before facing towards his students once more.
"I'm not asking you to paint the town red..." he mumbled, just a little pleased with his choice of words.
"I want you to go to some place you like, a cafe, a dinner, a promenade...take your sketchbook and a pencil and start sketching people."
After the words left his mouth all eyes him again and he could read various emotions in the students faces, fear and uncertainty two of the more unpleasant ones, emotions he did not want his students to face.
He sent a soft smile towards them and nodded to himself before telling them to not be afraid or worried about what people might think if they saw.
Art, like anything else, was bound to a constant learning progress after all and the core of the exercise was to sharpen the students eyes for compositional mass, to practice capturing a constantly moving object on paper.
The sketches were supposed to be done quickly, simply by finding an object or rather person they found interesting, determining the best position on the blank piece of paper and capturing the rough form in a couple dashes.
Baekho could almost read the relief in his students faces when the tasked minimized to sketches instead of fully detailed drawings.
One student after another slid out of his classroom then, most of them too engrossed in they chatter to even spare him a second to say their goodbyes for the day.
The door fell into lock as the last student passed through it.

The art room turned quiet and Baekho gazed at the clock above the door.

"You're here." He stated without even turning to the easel that Minki frequently occupied.
The boy looked away from the wall opposite of him to direct his eyes at Baekho.
"I am." He agreed and Baekho hummed in respond.

He started cleaning the art room like he always did, washing out the used brushes, removing the drapery, sorting the new sketches.
He was so used to Minki quietly sitting inside the art room after class that he cringed when the boy's voice suddenly rung in the air.
 

"Can't I just do the assignment right now?" Minki asked, pencil and sketchbook already held in hand.
Baekho looked at him for a moment, awkwardly rubbing his neck as Minki's eyes lingered on his form waiting for an answer.
He wasn't sure it was a good idea to let the boy sketch him, not that he'd never had anyone sketch him before but this was different.
"You're supposed to go out and capture people...you'll have a wider choice when there are more than one."

"But you're a person too and you're moving around here anyway...I don't see the difference."
The boy did have a point and the only reason Baekho would have rather declined was the idea of Minki's eyes following his every move.
 

"Go ahead." He breathed anyway and turned his back to Minki as he started to remove the layers of fabric from one of the mannequins.

The sound of pencil scratching over paper lingered in the air for quiet a while as he engrossed in his daily tasks and it was soothing to Baekho.
The noises of someone being creative had always been something Baekho savored, it was the sound of something new, something beings shaped and modeled and given birth to and he liked it.
It was possible that, that was one of the reasons he'd decided to become an art instructor, to watch the students finding the new, the unknown, a personal and very intimate side to art that was much more thrilling than the whole of arts history.
 

When all the cleaning work was done Baekho walked back to his table, he barely used it during lessons because he preferred a personal level of interaction with his students while teaching but after classes where over he liked slumping into his chair, just letting his gaze travel through the room, surrounding himself with his students creative outpour.
 

Minki was still seated behind his easel, body twisted just so he could comfortably hold his sketchbook and gaze pass the easel to look at his teacher while finishing his assignment.
Baekho felt the urge of raising his hands above his head, stretching his sour muscles and letting his joins pop back into place after a long day of continuing classes but he didn't though.
He was still in class, still with one of his students and he couldn't let himself show how day after day, hour after hour of being the nice, enthusiastic art instructor wore him out.
So he simply sat on his chair, feeling the dull ache in his shoulders and flipping through the folder on his table, examining the first drafts of the students final exam propositions.

His eyes ever so often gazed over to where the blond student sat, cool expression and a concentrated knit in his brows.
His blond hair was pulled into a loose ponytail again, bow shaped lips puckered as his gaze roamed the current work of art he was sketching, Minki's legs were clad in a pair of white denim shorts barely reaching mid-thigh, feet stuck in black stockings and a pair of rundown converse while a soft looking wool pullover wrapped around his torso.

It was hard to ignore the portion of porcelain skin showing but Baekho knew better than to stare at his student's skin.
It was even harder to tell whether Minki picked those type of clothes unconsciously or if it was the mere and sole want to provoke that had him clad in his current attire.
Baekho wasn't sure but something in the back of his mind told him that it wouldn't be the later.
In the couple of weeks he'd gotten to know Minki, though he still hadn't figured him out due to the lack of actual conversation but he'd learned to take the boy as he were.
Minki was somewhat akin to a cat, he shied off when approached too directly and bit back when he felt cornered.
Baekho had been able to tell by the interactions with other students, Minki was often alone, he barely saw the boy hanging out with other students and the fact that Minki so literately spend his time in Baekho's classroom made him feel something along the lines of pride.
He felt like something drew Minki back to his classroom, like there was something inside of these four walls that calmed Minki's mind, made him feel as ease and Baekho knew he'd almost once destroyed it for the boy with his imature interogations.

"Minki" he addressed the boy who merely hummed without lifting his gaze of the paper.
He watched Minki for a second, studied how the blonde seemed engrossed in his sketches before he spoke again.
"I'm sorry about last week." Baekho finally said with a stern voice.
He was sorry indeed, curiosity or not he still knew that his behavior had been wrong and he felt like it was something that he had to make right again because even though Minki still stayed after class he still barely talked and Baekho wanted nothing more than an insight on Minki's thoughts.
He wanted Minki's trust, because he felt like it was something rare, something Minki did not grant many people and Baekho knew no better way to gain it than to make up his wrongs.
"No need to." the blonde responded, eyes still fixed on his paper while Baekho let his gaze linger on Minki's form.
He wasn't sure what it was but something about Minki made him feel like the boy needed protection, like he needed someone to understand and Baekho wanted to try.
"I shouldn't have asked the things I did." He said and Minki finally lifted his eyes to look back at him.
His expression was cool, unmoved the same way Baekho had seen it many times but he felt like there was just a little difference in his gaze, like Minki was searching his eyes for something and Baekho wasn't sure the boy found what he was looking for.
"You're not the first to do so, so don't think it bothers me." Minki stated dryly and broke their eye contact anew, grabbing for his sharpener.
"I'm sorry." Baekho said again, probably on behalf of all the people who ever asked the boy the same inappropriate questions but Minki simply ignored his apology.