Chapter Two: Life

          Jungkook lowered his lens as Taehyung continued fervently brushing his brush against the large canvas. The younger had fully accepted having a living, breathing human in his studio, and now would be freaked out if he had returned back without seeing Taehyung making coffee or in front of his canvas, swishing a paint brush around.

          Taehyung’s presence had grown on him, like how a plant would flourish under a few days of the sun’s care. Unknown to the older, however, was the growing collection of candid shots being kept in Jungkook’s Canon 2100. Pictures of him concentrated of him and furrowing his eyebrows, him drifting into his thoughts while sitting on the couch, and many of him flashing his million dollar smile. Somehow and somewhere along the road, Taehyung had become Jungkook’s inspiration.

          Taehyung’s works, however, had always told different stories. A watercolor of a woman’s bruised back, a pencil sketch of a wildflower blooming on a cactus, a pastel of an old man’s eyes in contrasting colors. They spoke of loneliness and solitariness, of experience and hurt. Taehyung’s works were always much more than a thousand words, and stirred feelings unknown to any inexperienced and unhurt soul, but Taehyung knew all these too well.

          Jungkook had also noted the increasing amount of books that had started to mount on the coffee table next to the canvas, where Taehyung kept all his paints and brushes in a bucket. It didn’t take Jungkook long to guess that “Echo” was his sister’s pen name, and after sneaking a book or two into his room and freaking Taehyung out by the tenth fold, He could concluded that his sister was one of the best writers around.

          Jungkook was also creating a small name for himself in the photography industry, and was working on slowly climbing up the charts. He had predicted that if the rate of his success was to slowly increase, he would be able to fulfill his dream of opening his gallery much faster than expected.

          The day before the opening, Jungkook had forcefully dragged Taehyung out, saying that Taehyung had to at least go around the exhibition hall for a personal tour. But really, Jungkook just wanted for a little surprise on Taehyung’s behalf.

           On these four months that they had lived together, they had come to terms that they could read the other like a book. They were not implemented as Siamese twins or joined at the hip, but the type where each other’s movements and small gestures can be easily deciphered by the other.

         The other whined in defiance as Jungkook mock-shoved him inside, and covered his eyes. He chuckled as the older male writhed around in confusion, unsure of where he was. However, his heart was pounding a million miles an hour, and he couldn’t slow it down. He really wanted to take their relationship to the next level (no benefits, of course), but he had no idea of what to expect from the talented painter. The mop of brown locks had waltzed into his life like a passerby going into a café.

          “Hyung, you really need to go out sometime. Stop limiting yourself to only the art store, book store and my studio,” Jungkook tried his utter best to not stutter and give everything out, but Taehyung knew him all too well.

          “What’s wrong, Kookie?” Taehyung had started, but said nickname had made purpose to veer a sudden right, disorienting and effectively stumbling the other artist. Jungkook steadied him and within the next few seconds, reached their destination without any more questions, much to his relief.

          “We’re here now,” Jungkook softly uncovered the other’s eyes, and his voice was a bare whisper. Taehyung blinked away the fuzziness, before taking in the wall that was supposed to be the gallery’s main exhibition. His eyes visibly widened, and he had to take a full five seconds to comprehend what he was looking at.

          The entire main wall was covered in his pictures; him furrowing his eyebrows while finishing the last of the hyper realistic drawing of his sister; his eyes brightening while he reached out for his favorite manga in the bookstore; him curiously flipping through Jungkook’s precious photo albums; his surprise when he found the two VIP art exhibition tickets in the mail to the Da Vinci exhibition that was in town; his faraway look while he was reading his sisters works. The monochrome-covered wall had been partly covered with his shots, and when he saw the tiny heading and description, he gasped.

          “124 days, 2976 hours, 178560 seconds.

                             That’s how long it took for me to fall… For you.”

          As he turned towards Jungkook for some kind of answer to this, he yet again    received a shock. In Jungkook’s hands were a small bundle of well-kept dandelions, and before Jungkook could even speak up, Taehyung’s eyes started watering.

          Jungkook swallowed the largest lump that had formed in his throat, Jungkook started. “Come home with me, Taehyung. I’ll be there for you, and if you don’t wish to, I’ll wait till you will,” Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. His mind ran through all the worst possibilities. What if Taehyung had run away, what if he avoided him if he did not like him back?

          After what felt like an eternity to the bunny-toothed photographer, in what must have been actually lesser than 2 seconds, a nodding and hysterically sobbing Taehyung was in his arms. Jungkook stumbled back from the strong ball of energy that was propelled into his arms like a hyperactive rabbit.

          “Is that… a yes?” Jungkook was jittery and unsure of the spontaneous and unpredictable alien that was Taehyung. Taehyung continued nodding his head furiously, his hands plucking the bouquet of dandelions and, after blowing away the white tufts, clutched them close to his heart, his tears of happiness and wide smile providing all the evidence that Jungkook needed.

[Dandelions]: They represent happiness, and a complete promise of utter

   Faithfulness.                                                                                                                                                                                     

          It was yet again the middle of January, and winter was in full bloom, the flakes falling on the studio’s window now and then. As Taehyung stirred his cup of what Jungkook suspected to be coffee diluted in too much sugar and milk, he visibly deflated into the couch, deprived of any inspiration.

          Taehyung had now officially started living with Jungkook, and was making the best out of it. The murals that covered his bedroom wall whispered of spattered constellations and hued planets, all of which Taehyung could read out by name, while both their fine art degrees hanging proudly to the right of Neptune.

          Jungkook regarded Taehyung as a genius in the world of pencils, brushes and charcoals. The spill of inspiration seemed to endlessly flow from the artist’s nimble fingers, and his talent was all washed off onto the various heart-touching artworks that had all started off on a plain canvas.

          He, however, regarded himself as a much uninspired photographer. He only seemed to notice the more touching and obvious things around him now, and not the small little things like he used to when he used to be an amateur. His works seemed to become more and more watered down, and not raw and full off emotion as of when he had came into the industry, looking for success.

          “You seem to be in a dilemma,” Taehyung snapped his fingers in front of his lover’s face, and Jungkook had to blink a few times to retract himself from his  thoughts. He sweetly bent down to kiss the other’s forehead, and sat himself down opposite his depressed boyfriend, his other hand nursing the cup of overly sweet and creamy coffee.

          “… How do you do it? How do you get inspired so easily?” Jungkook mumbled silently, his face a mask of confusion and tiredness, all at the same time. “Hmm?” Taehyung hummed in response, though catching his words completely. He contemplated the question a bit as Jungkook repeated the question with a louder volume, rolling the words around his mind and taking his own time.

          “Well….” Taehyung started, as Jungkook leaned forward in anticipation. He had learnt from experience that his seemingly innocent boyfriend was wise beyond his years. When he gave advice, every word held a meaning, and every pause had its effect. It just seems to come from the bottom of his heart, and he was blatantly honest about it.

          “I get my inspiration from life. My experiences, my emotions, my negatives, my happy times. The times I feel down is when I splatter out my feelings and worries through the brush; the times I feel happy is when I am grateful for what has been formed in the canvas. These choices make me who I am today, and if I don’t give them the respect they deserve for making what I am, what kind of artist am I?”

          As the words dawned on the photographer’s face, the painter’s mind merely wandered farther.

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A/N: It's nice to finally update with no extra stress going on due to exams... ((what am I saying I'm probably dying of happiness))

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