He was so nervous.

He always was before a meeting with his publisher because there were some things that Choi SeungHyun, manhwa artist, just couldn't handle. Surprise birthday parties, weak coffee, 'some assembly required' furniture, and Kang DaeSung.

Every time he walked into that office he felt as if he'd suddenly swallowed his tongue. It was like the feeling of hearing your apartment intercom crackle at 2 AM, like a stranger's hand touching yours on the subway, like a lightning strike nearby when you're outdoors. In short, interacting with DaeSung was SeungHyun's biggest fear.

“Choi SeungHyun, come in, we haven't seen each other in a while, have we?” Least of all because DaeSung was probably the nicest guy in the business.

He'd been with other publishers before, when he'd first had his works in a couple of magazines and he'd had to flit about between them because his mind would occasionally create romantic mush and, alternatively, come up with hardened super-powered fighters. All of them had been about as much as he could expect from a corporation. Impersonal, impolite, and impeding. Everything he wrote had to be redone on multiple occasions because it wasn't 'action-y' enough, his heroines lacked class, his drawing style was too realistic, too unrealistic, too this too that. He'd never had that with DaeSung though. Everything he had showed to him so far had been gushed over and handled with the utmost respect in regards to volumizing and artistic integrity. Even when he'd been asked to make a few changes he'd been made to feel as if it could only enhance what he'd already intended to portray within his words or images. It was the perfect mix, and DaeSung and he should have been best of occasional work acquaintances. Instead, however, SeungHyun had, at a point not long after meeting the nice and personally attentive man, decided that now would be a good idea to be struck down by Cupid's arrow.

It hadn't exactly been subtle either, less than fourteen minutes after first laying eyes on him and SeungHyun's heart had gone into overdrive. The pages he was holding becoming the sponge to mop away all of the excess sweat that was suddenly pouring from his hands, his eyelashes fluttering as if he'd caught a grain of sand and was trying to blink it away, his face feeling hot like it was the middle of Summer whereas his appointment with publishing agent Kang had been set for early January. His ears were hot, his stomach was knotted, his knees felt weak as he meekly held out a hand for the more westernized greeting of a handshake and felt his spine suddenly going ice-cold to the feel of a warm, delicate palm brushing against his own. He was in love.

And it made him act like a jerk.

“I loved your last story. It's all set for a place in our new compilation book as soon as you approve what the colorists have mocked up for your opening page.” From how he treated DaeSung back for his wonderfully understanding nature, SeungHyun must have seemed like one of those impossible to please clients. He would never accept anything directly, always waiting until that honey sweet smile fell, only a little, in disconcertion, and he placed the board down onto the desk instead, “It looked good from what I thought, it really captured the feel of your title and the darker skintone was a nice touch-”

“I want her paler.” He would argue absolutely anything that DaeSung said.

“O-oh...” His leading lady's complexion was something of a notable point in his eighteen page boy meets girl. She was meant to be dark because he was, and what better way to work out his frustrations semi-publicly than writing him into his stories as the willing love interest? The second DaeSung had mentioned it, however, and SeungHyun could already feel the usual palpitations. Would he figure it out? He had to protect himself, had to hide any attempts he'd made to confess his love through being a belligerent and, so far, it seemed to have been working. DaeSung hadn't asked him out yet, surely that was enough for the relieved half-smile that pulled at the corners of SeungHyun's mouth as he watched his favorite publishing agent half-heartedly make a note at the bottom of the mock-up to have it re-painted, “I'll see if I can get them to make it a rush job so you don't miss out on Volume four.” It never seemed to last, one smile from DaeSung and his heart was thumping so hard he needed to steer him down another direction. Fast.

“I've been thinking of re-writing it anyway, you know what? Forget the compilation, it's not ready.” He was probably just going to scrap the whole thing now, his hands reaching needily as he lifted from his seat in order to take the pages he'd left a month ago back from within DaeSung's grasp. Without the dark skin, there was basically no story, and he needed to remove the trace of himself he'd left on those pages before DaeSung managed to catch on.

“Oh god I'm an idiot...” The regret lasted longer than any meeting ever could. He loved DaeSung, wanted him, pined for him. So why was he always trying to push him away? Sure, there was his biggest problem, of what if he didn't feel the same way back, but that didn't mean that they couldn't be friends...did it? In SeungHyun's mind the options seemed far more limited. Either DaeSung loved him or they couldn't stand to be near each other. It was the safest way to be, but no matter what he tried it was like the other man just didn't get it, “...he's supposed to hate me...” He didn't mean his words, if DaeSung ever truly did he'd probably join right in and hate himself because behind that sneering contempt he would plaster onto his face every time he was stood before that office door SeungHyun was aching to tell the publishing agent everything, “...what if I call him...?” It was a habit he'd picked up from working alone. Talking to himself or to the two-dimensional creations sitting stagnant and waiting on his page. What would he say? What would he do, if he actually agreed to meet with him, to go out for coffee or whatever other clichéd romance comic suggestion he made in his attempt to sound like he knew what he was doing. The prospect was almost too much, SeungHyun's blood boiling to just the possibility, just the thought. DaeSung and him together, face to face, hand in hand, lips-

“Mnh...”

He whimpered like a puppy needing to go outside.

There was no way he could call out of the blue and admit his fantasy, he would more likely wind up insulting him over the phone line if their previous and more work-related meetings had any bearing on the situation. Which they did.

No, instead SeungHyun would just have to tough it out. Wait for the raging storm of his romantic feelings to die down and move on with his life. It wasn't as if it had already been a year now and he was still just as giddy as when he'd first met him.

He needed an outlet. Something that he could turn to when the reactions became too much and he found himself burning for the other man's sweet attentions. Something renewable, a thing that couldn't just be taken away and that he could keep as a way of letting off the steam that just thinking of DaeSung brought out of him.

He was going to write a manhwa.

A personal one, a comic that would never see the light of day outside of his lightbox and that would be everything he'd ever wanted to be with DaeSung and more. He'd already found himself eagerly leaning over his drawing table, turned up to forty-six degrees like was comfortable and with a page already in wait of a new design. He was going to draw himself. And not just himself, better than himself. A suave, flirtatious, lady-killer who could easily make a blushing publishing intern fall for him...or maybe he would just draw himself.

He'd worked all through the night on his masterpiece, the storyline that couldn't be read by anyone else and that was more of a window into the artist's life than the window that currently hung above his head. He'd even worked while he was sleeping, or, at least, had excited himself into exhaustion and had wound up with his face pressed into the paper of the eighth panel as he snored gently in the mid hours of the morning. When he heard the garbage truck outside he was startled from his pleasant dreams of romantic situations, his body jerking upwards before his eyes were even open and a hand knocking into the full container of ink he'd left open for effects sheets at the side of his desk.

“.” That stuff was expensive, and even if he was making slightly irregular money it wasn't anything that he wanted to waste through sheer clumsiness. As luck would have it he had a clean sponge handy in order to soak it up, a smile creeping onto the corners of his face as he carefully squeezed what had spilled back into the righted container with careful precision. It was going to be a good day, he hadn't even gotten any onto any of his work from the night before.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah!”

He'd thrown himself forwards to the sound of a voice, meant to be alone in his little studio apartment and now afraid that he'd left the door open as well as he clung to the side of his now dripping with ink table and hung slightly from the side of his work chair. Looking around quickly he couldn't see the source of any such voice, his eyes blinking rapidly as if, maybe, he'd just dreamed it and needed a refresher in order to actually wake up this time. Shakily getting to his feet, SeungHyun took in an unsteady breath, he hadn't gone so far as to hallucinate, had he? Because that would just be the worst.

“I got a towel, is this better?”

“!” He'd thought he'd just imagined it! His back now pressed in against the drawing board and allowing the ink to soak through his shirt and against his skin, SeungHyun's eyes were wider than he thought possible. Though, seemingly what he thought was possible could just about go to hell because standing in front of him was somebody he knew all too well.

It was him.

Of course, he had enough color in him normally to not come off as a newspaper reject, all grey pallor and darkened lines. Which should have been his first indication that something was far more wrong with this situation than just being faced with your doppelganger. He could blame the ink for this, the dripping feeling going down into the band of his underwear and causing a grimace to cross his face before he turned around.

“Oh no.” It was everywhere. His hand having knocked the bottle back and spilling it all over the page he'd been working on, the page that had lulled him to sleep with how perfect everything about it was, “My DaeSung.”

“Oh , where?” Cringing slightly to the sound of his own voice, SeungHyun, who had been hoping for the less than possible monochrome double of his to have vanished on its own by now, turned to see what had caused the sudden onset of swearing and non-enjoyable excitement.

It was worse than he thought.

The familiar image of himself suddenly appeared to have far more grey across his cheeks and ears, one half of his bottom lip nervously placed between his teeth as those eyes practically sparkled. This was his drawing, he'd done it the preceeding night to he and his comic DaeSung's first meeting, when sparks had flown and romance was in the air in the form of spring blossom petals. It was an unabashed attempt at showing the real him, the way he honestly felt and wanted to let the real DaeSung know about. And he hated it.

“I-I'm not ready to see him yet...” He just looked so...vulnerable. It was no wonder he always acted so awful when he was feeling like this inside. He wouldn't want anybody to see him like that, least of all DaeSung if he wanted to, in any way, win him over.

“This can't be happening...”

“Where are you going?” His tune had changed so quickly, like he was going through a mood swing as he suddenly became so interested in where it was that SeungHyun was heading towards the door to go to. He needed a break, something sweet perhaps, or maybe the largest coffee he could get his hands on. Ink soaked clothes be damned, he needed to wake up because, otherwise, when he had his next meeting with DaeSung he'd have the feeling of being watched by a sensitive wreck that he'd apparently decided he needed to have as an imaginary friend. Or maybe friend was too strong a word for it?, “O-oh, okay, I'll wait right here then.” He was so emotional it was humiliating.

He didn't know what he'd done wrong. He hadn't asked to be brought to life but SeungHyun's drawings were just so dynamic when he put his all into them like that. What he'd been impulsively writing and sketching down was so realistic and full of yearning that it was like you could feel his romantic intentions before he'd even laid pencil to page. It just so happened that the only image he'd finished to a completed degree had been of such a sappy moment.

'I love you.' He says, the young publishing agent's eyes creasing into a smile as his lips curve up. A focus on his lips, shining accents of wettened, soft beauty. A kiss-He hadn't gotten to the kiss. Hadn't gotten to the repeated confession of 'I love you too' because he'd been so overcome with wanting to add more to the story. To expand it from just a simple one paged scene of romance into a whole series. So he'd traced the image of his mirrored face, re-used it instead for a scene of feeling love rather than just having mentioned he had it, inked it to solidify his dedication, and continued until he'd passed out in heartwarming fatigue. His image had come to life in more ways than he could have ever hoped, but there was just one problem.

No color.

SeungHyun didn't color, he never had. And his longing, passionate twin just looked wrong without his deep, soulful, brown eyes, his hesitantly blushing face, his skintone. He looked incomplete and he knew it. Which was how he'd found himself leaning over the sink in the bathroom, opened box of color pencils that were hidden way way at the back of SeungHyun's supply drawer clutched in his hand as he attempted to fill in what he was necessitated to. His DaeSung was out there somewhere and he needed to go to him. He just couldn't go like this, not until he'd managed to make himself presentable for the love of his life.

“...Me?” He didn't know what else to call it, SeungHyun maybe? Either way it was a relief to notice an empty apartment again. Having downed a terrible convenience store coffee before finishing a half-box of snack-cakes SeungHyun felt more at ease to face the world again. And to face the mess he'd made of that wonderfully crafted page of his hidden desire. DaeSung's lines were all washed out with ink, only the slight indentation left of the original image that he would need to see if he could salvage through tracing but he wasn't feeling it as of now. Even if his love never left him it did give him the occasional saving grace of time off for good behavior. With the ability to shelve his current feelings he could clean up his workspace enough to start on a new storyline. Maybe an action adventure this time since it seemed far less likely that he could accidentally expose his feelings by making people punch each other. Not impossible, but just not as likely.

“DaeSung.” Hearing the voice DaeSung understandably perked up with confusion. The sound was certainly familiar, but in no way was the tone.

“Choi SeungHyun?” He felt like he needed to check.

“I-I remembered that you come here.” That wasn't strictly the truth. A chance opportunity to glance inside his wallet and SeungHyun had memorized the loyalty card of a local café. As it fell, his counterpart also had access to these special pieces of information he'd kept in reserve, it just so happened that he was much more agreeable to acting on them.

“Oh...did I tell you I did?”

“Do you mind if I join you?” His eyes were cast to the ground as he smiled warmly, one foot brushing across the brown commercial carpet as he ignored the question he'd been posed in order to ask his own. It was like he was in his own little world and, honestly, he was. The world that SeungHyun had written for him.

“...I-I suppose not, are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He was more pale than DaeSung could ever fathom, having run out of generic skin colored pencil before he'd finished his face he was having to do this half-completed but he'd made sure to compensate by wearing gloves and a beanie to go along with the long-sleeved jacket.

“I feel fine...” It was thirty-five degrees outside, the sudden pink hue to his cheeks causing DaeSung to assume he was definitely aware of this fact but just choosing to ignore it.

“I love the way you eat.” DaeSung had always been one for being more than polite, he was affable and friendly to nearly everyone he met and some he didn't, but this was just too much of a switch. Wasn't SeungHyun normally a little more...reserved? He only opened his mouth to point out if DaeSung was wrong, which, in the office, was fine because it was his stories they were bringing to life and a protest here and there meant he was involved and felt as such. This though, pointing out that he would take a bite with his front teeth? That wasn't much like he remembered SeungHyun at all, “Do you always order the cake? Or is there something else that's your favorite here?” He didn't really have a favorite.

“Well the hazelnut croissant is pretty good.”

“I love how you pronounce it.” SeungHyun seemingly loved a lot more than he let on during their negotiation sessions to do with his latest comic.

“...Are you going to go get one?” He'd joined him but for what, he hadn't even ordered a coffee and even that he would have every month at their meetings. In fact, DaeSung couldn't recall him ever without one.

“No. I'm just fine here with you...” DaeSung was a lot less observant than SeungHyun had always feared, even this behavior wasn't enough for him to come to any strong conclusions about his romantic design. It was enough, however, to make him think he was running a fever, “Let's go to the bookstore after this. We can laugh at old Shin JjangGu in the manhwa section together.” It was a whole different side of him, one that DaeSung wasn't sure he was entirely ready to see because he wasn't exactly feeling comfortable at being the only one to be eating and drinking whilst he was stared down by big, heavy-lidded, oddly uniform-brown eyes.

“A-are you sure you shouldn't be lying down?”

“We can do that when we go to the park to look at the clouds.” He must have thought he had a whole day for lunch instead of just an hour. As an artist he must have forgotten that not everybody was free to make their own hours as he was, not that it was frustrating DaeSung. Mostly, it was worrying him a little, “Oh, DaeSung, here, read this joke.” He'd grabbed his hand as if to guide it to the page, stopping as if he'd just realized what he'd done even though it had to have been intentional before he lifted his eyes and turned his head. They were looking right at each other, that flush of pinky-red on the almost white face seeming to darken before his eyes blinked half closed and DaeSung was sure he had started to move closer for whatever reason, which was probably why the thunder had been so unexpected.

“Don't you have a car?”

“No, I walked.” He sure seemed in a hurry to get somewhere that would be dry when the storm hit. He'd even walked out of the bookstore with the comic he'd been trying to get DaeSung to read still in his hand, a fact the publishing agent hadn't noticed until he saw him gesturing towards a pavillion.

“Oh.”

“What?” He was suddenly very jumpy, the look in his eyes suggesting that he had been waiting for him to notice something but, in spite of this, was afraid that maybe he finally had.

“The book...”

“Huh?...Oh .” It had definitely been an accident, probably brought on by worry about the rain, he must have been planning to buy supplies on the way home and ink and paper don't take too well to falling water, “I-I should-I'll just take this back, you wait right here, okay?” He wasn't sure why he had to. Maybe he had some work on him and was hoping to find an opportune moment in order to share it with him? He didn't have to go to all that trouble, DaeSung would have seen him without an appointment...maybe not if whatever he was suffering from was contagious.

It wasn't the threat so much as it was the implication.

Rain might get him wet, and, seeing as he was just a cartoon on a page, what would happen to him if it did? DaeSung and he had been so close to kissing, he could practically feel the starry-eyed tension running through his veins...or was that something else, did it normally start at the top of your head?

“SeungHyun, the awning-” It was too little too late, DaeSung's warning coming just before the buckled covering tilted enough in order to no longer simply be dripping on the unsuspecting man with the light drizzle that had come before they left the store. Now letting a small torrent loose that had been gathering since the light sprinkle of rain began and splashing down enough in order to drench one side of his beanie. DaeSung supposed the addition might just have come in handy, the material seeming to have soaked up most of what the building had offered to him, whatever was left now being covered by the book he'd been intending to return as if it were suddenly a perfect replacement for an umbrella, “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, don't come near me.” He was holding his free hand out like he had the plague or something, DaeSung hesitating in his spot because although this sounded more like the Choi SeungHyun he'd grown used to over the past year, it was still troubling to be subjected to the sudden switch in personality. If he was sick he should probably be with a doctor, or at least at home with a nice orange juice and somewhere to sleep.

“Did you want me to take it back?”

“No. I-I mean...I've decided I want it now, go back and pay for me, I'll pay you back at our next meeting.” It was an odd request, DaeSung having little recourse but to do as he was asked since SeungHyun had just his heel and hurried off in the direction of his apartment building and, unless he wanted to lose a potential top-seller on a shoplifting charge, there wasn't much else he could do.

The sound of the rain picking up brought out the nostalgic romantic inside SeungHyun. The first story he'd taken to DaeSung had been about a relationship budding in the showers of the Summer rain. Of course, his had been more like sun showers and less the thunderstorm that had been threatening since before he stopped work. The humidity must have been through the roof, and he'd had his window open in the hopes of alleviating some of the clammy feeling he was getting in his hands. Smudging a picture with your own sweat was sort of a no-no in the manhwa community and SeungHyun had been at this long enough not to make a rookie mistake like that. When he pulled the window shut he heard the door beginning to creak open, wondering if this was some new oddity to the foundations of the house when he noticed the figure walking in and almost fell off the chair he was standing on for extra height. Hadn't this just been a figment of his imagination?

“What are you doing back here?” He was leaning back against the wall for balance, taking a steadying breath before peeling his eyes away from the hunched and miserable looking visage hidden behind a wet book and ensuring he didn't actually fall as he slowly made his way back to the ground, “Did you take my good Winter clothes?”

“I-I got caught out in the rain.”

It reminded him that he'd never written a horror manhwa before.

“Oh my god-It's only just drizzling out there...!” How had he managed to do that sort of damage? The ink from his face had been dripping down the skin and his eye seemed to have...slipped to somewhere just shy of his cheek. The colored pencil he'd used happening to be watercolor so that was all bled in together to make a dark, fleshy-hued mess that had gathered at the top of the jacket collar. It was like when he'd spilled his drink across his last children's comic.

“It was an accident...!” He didn't like to argue with himself at the best of times, let alone when his own responses were coming out less out of anger and more in hysteria. He seemed like he'd been crying, that couldn't have helped anything much, “Please just draw it again, I-I can't see through it and it feels wet.” And SeungHyun thought he was unlucky the last time he was fixing the dripping sink and it backfired.

“Okay, okay, just...ah, sit down in front of the heater first, you have to dry out. And take off my jacket.”

“Okay...”

It was worse than he was anticipating.

He hadn't just been out getting a feel for three-dimensions. Not just looking around in sudden awe of the colors he wasn't proficient enough to provide him with, no. SeungHyun's paper doll had gone straight for the object of his heart, the reason for his in-bred affection. He'd gone to DaeSung and confessed. At least, that was all SeungHyun could fathom right now. If he'd been with his secret crush what else could he have done with him? A few choice ideas came to mind but none of them were the kind that he was willing to come to be known for publishing. There was nothing else he could have done, SeungHyun had managed to make a character that was all raw emotion, all love and no logic, he'd practically confessed to him when he'd whimpered and told him that what he was now struggling to fix, since 3D was new to both his double and him, that his whole short existence, his life, had been ruined by badly timed weather.

“I-I don't know how to fix this...”

“Say you're sorry you left.”

“Not that...!” He wasn't ready to tell DaeSung how he felt, he'd never be ready! What must he think of him now, after seeing him so exposed, so weak? SeungHyun felt sick, worse than when he would have to take DaeSung on at a meeting, worse than when his thirtieth birthday had come and gone and all he'd wanted for was for DaeSung to be there to celebrate it with him but knowing that he never could again. If this had ruined everything for him he needed some time, a distraction with which he could confuse DaeSung into submission. Then he could run away.

“SeungHyun.” The non-familiarity had been dropped, if he was so formal before what must that mean of their situation now?, “I thought I wouldn't be seeing you for a while?” Why, what had he done?, “It, uhm...It was fifteen thousand.”

“What?”

“Fifteen thousand, the book was fifteen thousand.”

“Oh.” SeungHyun had no idea what he was talking about but that look alone on his face was enough to make him more anxious than the one time they'd touched hands. He hated him, or thought he was crazy, or both. He seemed like he was anxious around him, afraid.

“I-if you don't have it right now that's okay, we can settle that next month-”

“About that, I-” He was looking right at him, SeungHyun's heart skipping before deciding to do the bossa nova because he'd forgotten just how in love he was since yesterday. It always seemed to hit him all at once, his face, his hands, his smile, his skin, his smell. DaeSung was just so perfect and SeungHyun felt so insignificant wanting him so badly like this, if he wasn't acting like a jerk through trying to protect himself he was acting like an idiot because he was letting it all hang out, “I-I decided the story was good enough and the art is perfect, beautiful, I-I loved the color, her skin was exactly like I was imagining a-and that's what I was trying to tell you this afternoon so here it is.” He hadn't let him get a word in edgewise, not that DaeSung had been expecting the sudden explosion of words that didn't amount to how incorrect his judgment was before having the pages he'd held only twenty-four hours ago back into his hands as SeungHyun turned, once again, to leave him in a confused dust, “I-I'll let myself out and I'll see you next month when the volume's ready.”

He felt like he was about to collapse.

He'd never been so uninhibited before, never been so unable to contain his own emotions like that in front of him, not since he'd first gotten a good grasp of them back when they'd been introduced and was only now seeming to notice that his grip had faltered at some point. How long had they been slipping through his fingers, how long had DaeSung been at danger of seeing them, of figuring him out? How long did he have left until his romantic dream was as ruined and crumpled as the damaged sheets he'd left out to dry like his now mysteriously absent paper-man? At least he could console himself in the few pages he had left from his fervent work, born of concealed love from afar. That exact first page, where he'd tried to rush to the end without realizing that he even yenned for the beginning. The one he had left with the intentions of reaching someday, the confession of love, the reciprocation, the kiss...he would never have those in reality now, not even as a dream, and he would have liked to drown his sorrows in the perfect positioning, the wonderfully memorized features...if only he could find it. It had been sitting on his desk not long ago, laid out and keeping him company as he'd worked on other things and even taken the opportunity to add some extra details to the dark skinned girl's romantic adventure just in case he ever decided that it was safe to have it printed-

He couldn't have. The idea was just too awful to imagine.

“N-no...I must have just put it here in the drawer...” Even with his own assurances SeungHyun's fingers felt like they were too stiff to search, his hands trembling slightly as his eyes stung from the heater for being too wide. He wouldn't have mistaken it for one of the pages he'd given to DaeSung. He would have to be stupid to have done that, there was no mistaking who was sketched on those pages or what was going on between them. It was the most telling of evidence there could ever be beyond a written admission. It was too damning to have slipped up after what had already happened, he couldn't take that! With the sound of his cellphone SeungHyun's head snapped up in panic. Who was calling, his mother? He hoped it wasn't his mother-actually, he hoped it was. The other possibility enough to turn his panic into a full blown break-down. Anyone but him, even a wrong number who insisted on chatting despite admitting that they'd made a mistake, anyone. Squeezing his eyes shut SeungHyun refused to read the caller ID on the readout, fumbling blindly to swipe the call to answer as he lifted it to his head and mumbled out a less than enthusiastic greeting, “H-hello?”

“...I think we should talk.” An up before a down felt terrible, but this must have been the worst day in his life.

He'd barely left an hour before and he was already having his number called, it didn't help that the hallway of his Publisher's felt about a mile long or that the carpet was a soft, grassy green.

“Choi SeungHyun? He's expecting you so go right in.” He was expecting him...he bet he wasn't expecting this. Finding out that one of his writers was sick in the head, not normal, delusional, a whack-job. Completely lovestruck. His legs were so soft it was like they were about to buckle underneath him, like something didn't want him to enter that room and be faced with the awful terrible truth of what his own dubious ineptitude had brought. DaeSung was probably horrified, disgusted. How could SeungHyun think like that? He wanted the ground to swallow him, for an earthquake to level the building before he managed to get his hand to turn the handle of the door, for the past day to be erased.

He knew that he must have taken it badly, but to be weeping over it?

“O-oh, SeungHyun.”

“Huh?” He didn't sound disgusted.

“Please...close the door.” He'd been hoping to get through this without making himself more defenseless than he already felt but if that was what DaeSung wanted, “This drawing...oh, SeungHyun, it's beautiful.” He was up before he could think to protest, as if the words hadn't hit him yet and, to avoid the verbal beatdown he'd been expecting, SeungHyun was ready to defend himself. Until DaeSung came around the table that was, until he was up so close he could almost kiss him if he wasn't already feeling foolish enough for having made such a stupid and costly mistake. Or, if DaeSung hadn't taken the initiative and kissed him first.

“Mh-w-what?” It wasn't exactly the first kiss he'd imagined. Not the romance manhwa, world stopping, petals falling, whirlwind of deepening emotions that he'd been planning on drawing once he'd mapped it out. If anything he never thought he would be the one to put an end to it, having expected that DaeSung would need to pry him off if he ever got the courage to kiss those so temptingly luscious lips, “I-I don't understand.”

“I know, it struck me like that too...” What the hell was he talking about?, “...but I think I do, SeungHyun. I-I really think I do, even if it does seem sudden.” Was he talking about more than just the art? Was he talking about...their words?

'I love you' 'I love you too'

Was he talking about that? About the deep, secret declaration, about his feelings put onto page, about everything he'd ever been dreaming about up until this moment exactly one year and six and a half months since he'd first laid eyes on the man he knew he'd be in love with forever?

“...You love me?” Feeling as he buried his face slightly in against his neck, his arms having s around his waist at a point during SeungHyun's blinded disorientation and suddenly catching him off guard with how muscular and warm they were...SeungHyun could feel as his heart began to catch on.

“...don't make me say it out loud so soon...” DaeSung loved him. He wouldn't say it, but he loved him. Just like he loved him back, or first, it didn't matter which it was anymore.

“O-oh.” He needed to catch up to his fantasy before it got away, wrap his arms around DaeSung now even though it was a little awkward and he hadn't been counting on so little height difference after years of drawing short girls with tall guys. Wrap his arms around him and just kiss him. Only once wasn't enough to get a feel for deepening it. He had to move back in surprise because it just felt so good, “Oh, DaeSung...” He'd just have to kiss those lips again. And again and again because if DaeSung loved him that meant he had all the time in the world before he had to deepen it and he was enjoying feeling his heart filling up with each soft peck. Even being urged gently backwards didn't hurt because his own lips were tingling with the memory of each kiss he'd already stolen-no...each kiss he'd been given as he allowed DaeSung his room to say whatever it was he needed to before they continued kissing forever.

“Mh, SeungHyun...When can I see the rest of it?”

The rest of the pages...?