Jungkook’s POV:

I was too stunned to realize what she had done.

It was only after she wriggled from underneath my arm that I realized she had painted a pink spot on my nose.

I slowly turned around to watch her burst out laughing.

“See, now you’re a bunny. Even without the whiskers,” she giggled.

It was such a sweet, soft sound that I wondered if I wanted to hear it every day.

I scratched the back of my head and said, “Why don’t you paint them on me, then?”

She became serious. “Really? Can I take a picture, too?”

“Bargaining already?”

I smirked when she pouted.

Then, she took her coat off and for the millionth time since I met her, I was shocked to my core.

She was.. wearing..

“You’re a high school student?,” I asked, cursing myself for hitting on a minor.

She raised an eyebrow at my sudden change of tone.

“Yeah, how old did you think I was?”

“Enough,” I said through gritted teeth.

She cocked her head to the side. “Enough for what? I’m already over 18, if that’s what you’re implying.”

But I was mentally cursing myself already to answer her.

So instead, I sat on one of the chairs and watched her silently paint the wall.

From what I knew of art, she was good. Even though my expertise in the field was only limited.

Suddenly she stopped and walked a few steps back. Then stared at the wall, thinking.

“What do you think?,” she said.

“About what?”

“What’s missing?,” she asked without turning around.

“Well...,” I trailed off, studying her incomplete masterpiece.

She looked at me over her shoulder and somehow that little action made me feel uncomfortable.

“Did you do these yourself?,” she pointed at my visible tattoos.

“Yeah, most of them.”

“Then you’re a better artist than I am. I feel there’s something missing here... but I can’t put a finger on it. Can you help me out?”

I smiled a little. It was the first time someone was asking me for an opinion like I mattered instead of passing an order.

“I can’t really say because I don’t quite get what you’re going for yet. All I see are some kids.” I studied it as good as I could.

“I want to draw something that the kids can get the feeling of ‘home’ from. Obviously not all of them will get adopted into loving homes... so I want them to feel at home here,” she spoke in a tender voice as if talking about something precious to her.

“Then that’s your answer.”

“What?”

“What do the