Artist
Feat. Taekwoon of VIXX

You stared at him as he walked across the room. He was beautiful. You marveled at his dark chocolate cold eyes, broad strong shoulders and plump kissable lips. Everything about him was pulling you in, deeper and deeper than you already were. His long arms reached up grabbing a piece of fabric from on top a shelf, running the fabric through his long slender fingers glancing back towards you.

You stiffened sitting up properly on the black leather couch, a glass of red wine in your hand. He smirked, turned back to the shelf and scanned over the other pieces of fabric that he had. Satin, silk, lace and tulle pieces were chosen all of equal length and all a range of blood red. He looked over the pieces he selected one last time before walking up to you.

You your lips unconsciously as his dress pants hugged his legs perfectly each step he took. Your eyes ran from his legs up his torso to the top of his dress shirt that had three buttons undone giving you an enticing peak at his milky white skin. Your eyes continued their journey up his neck to his plump lips and met the intense sensuous stare he was sending your way.

Your heart stopped beating the moment he stopped in front of you. He moved swiftly to your side taking a seat next to you, close but not so close that your bodies would touch. It was bittersweet how far he was from you. You yearned to feel his body touch yours, but knew if that happened you would be completely under his spell and there would be no turning back.

“Which one?” His voice was soft and silky.

Though his demeanor was disarming it contrasted wonderfully to the sweetness of his voice. If it wasn’t his physique and his sensuous stares that would be the death of you, it would surely be his voice. It was sweet as honey, but still held an icy undertone, chilling you to the bone.

“They’re all so beautiful.” You glanced down at the fabric choices. “I love silk, but the lace pattern is spectacular.”

“Great choice,” he stood up quickly walking to his desk jotting something down. “Tomorrow. 9AM.”

You rose from the couch baffled. Was this it? The looks, the atmosphere, did it all just end?

“Pardon?”

He turned around standing taller than he already was. “Be here at 9 tomorrow. We’ll get started right away.”

“You know what you want to do already?”

He glided up to you his hand resting on your hip, a spark igniting through you. “I knew the moment I saw you.”

“Wow, you really are a genius.”

He chuckled, his hand moving from your hip to under your chin lifting your head up. “9AM,” he reaffirmed. “No earlier, no later. Got it?”

“Y-Yes,” you gulped deeply while you trembled under his touch.

He bent down placing a kiss on your cheek, “So…beautiful…”

The blood rushed to your cheeks making them warmer than coffee on a cold winter’s day. The sight of your warm red cheeks made him smile even brighter. “You’re perfect,” he bent down kissing you gently on the lips. “Now, go and get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.” He turned you quickly towards the door leading you out of it.

“Okay,” you whispered still in a daze from the kiss.

“Drive safely,” he your cheek.

“I-I will…”

He gave you a slow wink before you turned and walked out of his studio. The moment you opened the door to leave the building the cold winter air hit your burning skin causing you to moan out gently. Your hand went to your heart, while your back was pressed on the door. The biggest smile started to spread across your face as you thought about his lips and hands on you.

He chose you. Out of all people, he chose you. Jung Taekwoon…chose me…

Jung Taekwoon was a master at his craft. Everyone in the art world knew about him. He could mold anyone into the perfect work of art. Every line was clean, every detail perfect. Hyper-realism was the right word. Your heart was on cloud nine thinking that you were to be added to his collection.

He was going to first design an outfit for you, handmade and then, you were to be turned into a wax sculpture. How he created such realistic, beautiful wax sculptures was unknown. No one saw him working, ever. He had his own building and ran his own studio, solely. Thousands of people wanted to know his secrets, millions wanted to learn from him, but he never offered.

He was a man of mystery. Even in the small amount of time in his studio you couldn’t figure him out. His studio was clean, everything in its rightful place. Not even a speck of dust could be found. It was perfect, and so was he.

To be turned into a piece of his art was an honor and privilege that doesn’t happen often. Only two women a year are chosen at random. The first woman he ever sculpted he saw while on a train ride when he was in France. The next, was at fashion show in New York.

In your case, it was in a bar at 2AM. You had just finished downing your second bottle of beer when he sat next to you, his single word still ringing in your ears, ‘Stop.’ That moment you knew your life was going to change.

♡☠♡

You looked down at your watch and the second it hit 9AM you knocked on his studio door. Immediately, the door opened and you were greeted with a more casual Jung Taekwoon. His hair was tousled, his shirt half open and he wore tight distressed denim jeans. He was a god, and you were not worthy to see him like this.

He smiled, took your hand in his, brought it up to his lips kissing your knuckles and you were whisked inside, the door locking behind you.

Two weeks passed and you were nearing the end of the month. You were standing in front of Taekwoon being sketched for the second time this week. He glanced up from his drawing pad satisfied with his latest sketch. He stood up stretching his arms and legs, and then smiled happily at you. He walked up picked up your robe from the couch behind you and draped the fabric over your bare shoulders allowing his hands and eyes to wonder down your body to where your hips were.

He never touched your bare skin other than your hands. Though his eyes wondered down your frame, it wasn’t a look of animalistic nature. It was a look of pure admiration. He continuously complimented you on your body saying you were beautiful. That you were stunning and he was honored to capture your beauty in a work of art.

This was your last sketch session before you were to start the wax modeling sessions. You were growing anxious to start working on the wax sessions, but you felt wary. You never got a chance to see any of the sketches he has done of you. You wished to steal a glance at one of them, and if he wasn’t satisfied with it, ask if you could keep it as a souvenir, but that was unprofessional and out of the question.

“Come sit,” he held your hand in his walking to the couch. You followed instructions, and sat down next to him. “Are you ready for the next step?” He turned and poured two glasses of red wine.

“Yes, I am. How long will it take?”

“Depends,” he smirked taking a sip. “Each person is different. You can’t rush the process at all.”

You nodded taking a quiet sip of your wine. “H-How is the dress coming along?”

“It’s finished. Would you like to see it?” He placed his drink down.

“Oh, yes please!”

He got up, walked to a door that was across the room and walked through it. A minute passed when he came back with a dress bag over a hanger. He ped it and the most beautiful dress was presented to you. It was a combination of silk and lace. The bust of the dress down to where you assumed would be just above the knee was silk, while under the neck down the arms and over the silk was the lace pattern you fell in love with. When he turned it around a silk train was shown. It was a design out of a fantasy novel you were sure of it.

Tears sprung up, and you had to place your drink down in order to catch them before he saw.

“Oh no,” he put the dress back in the bag and zipped it up. “My pet,” he ran over to you kneeling on the floor before you. “There is no need for tears. It’s just a silly dress.”

“It’s so beautiful. I can’t believe you did that…”

“That dress doesn’t compare to your beauty,” he reached up cupping your cheek. “To you it is a disgusting rag.”

You were speechless. The dress he created deserved to be seen on a runway. It should grace every fashion magazine and be shown to everyone around the world, and yet, he said you were more beautiful. You didn’t know what came over you, but you wrapped your arms around his neck hugging him close to you. No man has ever made you feel so beautiful and appreciated since he came along. You just hoped that the man in front of you would not cast you aside once his work is done.

“There, there…” he your back. “No more tears. You’ll ruin that pretty face of yours.” He pulled back and pecked you on the lips. “Tomorrow you will come in later. 5PM be here.”

“5PM?” You sniffed wiping your eyes.

“Yes, it is better to sculpt when the sun doesn’t change. We will be downstairs in the basement. I have all the materials down there.” You gave a silent nod. Taekwoon smiled and wiped the tear stains from your cheek. “Our time together is slowly coming to an end,” he sighed. “A part of me doesn’t want it to end.”

“I don’t want it to end, Taekwoon. Please don’t make it end.” You leaned into him kissing his cheek, “I really like you. I don’t want to be away from you.”

He smiled, “I like you too.” He whispered against your ear a shiver ran through you. “I promise we won’t be away from each other.” His lips slid from your ear, across your cheek and down to your lips. “We’ll never be away from each other.” His hands gripped the sides of your head, “Never…” He crashed his