____ paced through her home. It’s been over a week since ____ first arrived in King, and it has also been a week she him. Almost every day now, ____ would walk down the street to see him and almost every time she saw the same thing, a boy engrossed in his work. There was no mistaking the boy with the paint in his short jet black hair.

            She sat down at her desk, which overlooked the ocean. There, she viewed the extensive collection of photographs that she took over the week thus far and titled them like she always did. Little kids playing on the beaches; joyful. A woman sitting alone on a bench with tears in her eyes; despair. Groups of high schoolers chatting with each other; gossip…

            A young male painting away with his mind and pencil like his life depended on it; passion.

            It was the last photo she took on her first day, him. The painter with passion. ____ didn’t know what attracted her to him; she didn’t even know his name. To her, he was just ‘the boy who paints’. Yet something made her want to know his actual name. Maybe it was because there was something about him that reminded her of herself, both being passionate about something they love to do. For him art and for her photography. Either way, she did want to meet him, officially.

~~

            Once again, dusk had approached King’s Village. The night life was even more beautiful than usual tonight. For Chen, it was another night of happiness. Since the night he saw ‘the girl with the camera’, he wanted to know her. Since then, he’s never been so frustrated with one of his artwork, drawing and erasing and starting all over again. It was as if he couldn’t get her perfect looks onto paper, let alone a canvas for that matter. Even though Chen did not know her name, he could sense the passion emitting from her as she held the camera to her face. Why did he feel like this? Chen had no idea.

            As he began to set up his work station for the night, he looked at the unfinished painting next to him. The purple sky was beautiful, yet the ground had yet to start on the bottom half, where a person should be. He heard some laughter from in front of him and he raised his head to see a group of people laughing and clapping. To the side of them, the lens of an expensive camera and then a girl holding it. It was her. Surprised, she quickly turned around and snapped a photo of the crowd beside her. Chen stood up wanting to take a closer look at the girl’s face, only having to sit back down as she ran quickly, weaving through the large crowds with her camera in hand. He stared into the distance as he followed her silhouette. It was just as he remembered the last time. Long brown red hair tied into a braid that lay against her left shoulder, a light grey sweater paired with black jeans that trailed down her long legs. ‘Let’s just hope her face is just as beautiful as her back.’ Chen smiled to himself and started to continue on his art.

~~

            “He saw me. He saw me.” ____ kept repeating the same phrase as she ran scurried from the scene. He saw her. The boy with the art stand saw her. What was even worse was that she was sure that he saw her camera. He probably thinks she is some kind of weird creepy stalker now. ____’s mind played back what had just occurred, hoping that was all just a dream. Only it wasn’t, he saw her. Lucky for her the camera was covering her red face, but was it lucky or not? Did she or did she not want to know him.

            As she came towards the pier, a fair distance away from the town, she held up her camera which was still clenched in her hand. ‘There is no way he looked,’ she thought to herself as she clicked to the second last shot. Sure enough, there he was. His doe brown eyes, wide with wonder stared down the barrel of the lens. His black hair more tousled than ever with small strands standing up on end. ____ sighed, he was the perfect being. Blood rushed to her face as she continued to look into the photograph, making her cheeks slightly pink. ____ raised her hand to cover the blush, even though no one around her was paying attention. At this ____ was sure, even without knowing his name, she liked the boy who paints.

~~

            The visits have been happening for over two weeks now. ____ would see the boy, yet not having the courage to talk to him. And there was Chen, painting away, occasionally glancing around to find the girl with the camera.

            One night, abnormally quite for this time of day, Chen had only just finished painting his latest creation, in which he thought was his best work to date. Now it was only a matter of time before she would come, then he could find the courage to talk to her. More importantly, to see her face.

            A few minutes later, after a slow afternoon of painting, he could sense someone watching him. He looked up and sure enough, there she was. Holding tightly onto her camera with her back to him as usual. He smiled at the mere sight of her, hoping she would turn around. “It’s now or never,” Chen said to himself. If he didn’t speak up now, he would have to wait another day to see her again.

            “You’re here again,” he said to the girl. He could see her shoulders tense up at the sound of his voice and turned around slowly, only she faced the path below her.

            “You’ve been here every night taking photos of me,” Chen said. “I think the least you could do is let me see your face, right?”

            “U-um,” she inhaled deeply, and then exhaled. “You’re right.” She said as she lifted her face to look at him.

            Chen held his breath; her front was just as beautiful as the back. Her brown eyes weren’t covered by her hair, which framed her oval shaped face. ‘She is perfect’ Chen thought.

~~

            ____ could feel the heat rising to her face as his eyes locked with hers. He smiled at her, as if he wanted her to say something first. ____ inhaled deeply, ‘it’s now or never.’

            “I’m ____,” she held out her hand.

            Chen laughed and mimicked her actions, taking his hand into hers. “Chen.” He said as they shook hands.

            At the introduction took place, it became quiet. All they could do was stare at each other with shy smiles plastered on their faces.

            “So,” ____ said awkwardly, desperately trying to defuse the situation at hand.

            “So?” Chen questioned. He wanted to have ____ start conversation.

            ____ slightly panicked; what was there to talk about it?

            “I like that painting,” she said pointing at the canvas next to her feet. Unlike the other paintings around it, consisting of different abstract and fantasy pieces, was a painting of a girl in a seaside town. The blue and purple waters seemed to glisten in the reflection of the gorgeous sunset above. Most of the picture was blurred to add emphasis of the girl in the foreground. It was only of her back, her hair was braided to the side as it moved in the non-existent wind. ____ glanced over the painting, admiring every small detail. Including what this mystery girl was holding; a camera. She did a double take at the image in front of her. It couldn’t be her, could it?

            “Thanks,” Chen said as he shyly hid his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been working on that for a while”

            “Cool, does it have a title?”

            “I never really thought of one as of yet,” he rubbed the back of his neck.

            “Hm,” ____ took a step back to admire the painting once more. Normally she was able to create a complete story from a picture that she took, but because this was from someone else’s mind, it was more difficult for her.

            “Uh, it doesn’t need one straight away,” Chen stepped closer to her to block her view from the painting. ____ just smiled in consideration of his request.

            “You know,” ____ said. “Ever since I got here, you’re in the same spot.” She pointed to the mini art studio behind Chen. “Why are you here every night?”

            ‘Why are you here every night?’ Chen thought to ask this but refrained himself from putting her on the spot and simply answered her question. “I just really love to paint. You’re always holding that camera.”

            “What can I say; I just really love to take photos of random things I see.” ____ laughed and Chen followed suit.

            “It’s something I can’t describe in words, you know?” Chen nodded his head.

            “I don’t know, it’s like there’s something inside that makes me want to keep going. It’s like-”

            “Passion,” they both said in unison. Their eyes locked at the comment. ____’s brown eyes swam in Chen’s, the two getting lost in their oceans. It was because of their realisation that made them understand so much more about each other, for they were so much alike.

            “Well,” Chen sat down on his stool, chuckling softly. “I’m glad at least someone understands me.” ____ smiled and laughed along with Chen before she sat down beside him.

            It was rather a quiet afternoon with little to no customers or tourists heading for their direction. This was a good thing for the pair as together they spent most of the night talking, ____ showing Chen some of her photography and Chen talking about some of his sketches. Soon enough, it was nearly midnight and the lights started to flicker off, signalling a day’s end in King. ____ was the first one to stand, picking up her belongings she started to head off after saying her goodbye’s to Chen.

            “I’ll see you later ok?”

            “Yeah,” Chen said.

            “Cool,” she waved goodbye as started to turn around, only to be pulled back by Chen.

            “Hey wait,” he took a hold of her free hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

            ____ could see the glint in his eyes reflecting the moon in the sky, “of course. Tomorrow.”

            “Cool.” He said as he hesitantly let go of her hand. “I’ll see you later then.”

            ____ laughed, “Yeah.” She turned around and walked away, not without a quick glance behind her to Chen; the boy with paint in his hair.

            Chen stretched his arms and placed them on top of his head. As ____ was nowhere to be seen, he looked at the painting of her. What could he name this? He looked back at the empty street where the girl with the camera once was, and thought. Something that makes them keep going, a boy who paints and a girl who take pictures for a living. What else could make this happen other than... Passion

Authors Note:

Here's the final chapter for Chen! Dang procrastination otherwise I would have updated sooner. Up next is our K maknae Oh Sehun so stay tuned for more!! Don't forget comments are appreciated! 

~Andy :)