He padded out of the room as quietly as he could and closed the door behind him after checking that Jiyong hadn’t stirred from his sleep.

He poured himself a glass of water in the kitchen and found himself standing where he always ended up – at the end of the corridor, with his back to the front door, facing the painting that had brought Jiyong back to life. Before the drama on canvas of the blues and reds had unfolded, the younger man looked as if he had paused. As if he was stuck in a limbo, or rather, in a Groundhog Day. Going through the motions from one day to the next. He did what he had to, nothing more, nothing less, like a clockwork toy, carrying out predetermined actions etched into the gears by its maker. 

It was painful to watch especially because Seunghyun knew from experience, that no matter what he, or anyone else did, things wouldn’t be better until they just were. And no one, not even Jiyong himself, could say when that would be. 

For Seunghyun, that painting, although mediocre by most standards, was the most beautiful thing in that flat, second only to its sleeping artist. It represented so much more than just the sky. It was a sign of the return of purpose, of will, and also, the signature near the bottom right marked the day Jiyong had asked him out. 

But today… Today, after a solid seven weeks filled with an almost never ending stream of sketches, and paintings, and photographs, and poems written on random pieces of paper (Seunghyun had twelve receipts covered with verses squirreled away in his laptop bag), there had been a palpable change right after dinner. 

In hindsight, Seunghyun reflected, he should have seen it coming. Too many times he had been witness to Jiyong’s liveliness crashing out of nowhere. But as always, he had gotten caught up in the happiness, in the absolute joy that Jiyong found in anything and everything, and in his laughter, in his curiosity, and his hugs, and this time, his careful kisses, and the carefree ones as well. It hadn’t been that hard to believe that maybe, maybe this time it would last. But it hadn’t. And standing there in front of the canvas, Seunghyun blamed himself.