//This first chapter is a bit wordy, I'm sorry! It gets simpler, I promise lol

The John Carter Brown Library, off limits to RISD students by rule of thumb, watering hole for Do Kyungsoo.

The day was warm, the sky dark - not from day turning into night, but instead from the clouds covering the sky. A threat of rain hung like an augury over the campus.

Sitting under the protective branches of a great oak tree, Do Kyungsoo sat on his knees with a 18×24 stretch canvas spread out in front of him, paintbrush in hand. Before him and the great pillared stone steps of the Library were two benches, the exterior of each lightly shaded by the clouds thin layers. Each panel stretched four feet across the wrought iron supports, gently splashed with dark patches of foreboding presage of damp downfall. Kyungsoo liked the way the shadows played against each other on the grain of the bench; he liked how he could register the texture even more profoundly on the canvas in front of him.

His brush flew across the canvas easily and gracefully as he worked, colors disclosing on the rough fabric with each swipe of the horse haired end. His eyes followed each , head tilted and tongue slightly poking out from concentration as his kitten, Kabuki, repositioned himself in the grass beside Kyungsoo. His right hand moved out subconsciously, petting the pure white fur of the tiny feline, before his eyes moved from the project and looked down to Kabuki, unable to help it. Just then, a soft breeze brushed by, pushing back the wisps of his short black hair, making the leaves rustle around him, papers blow about from careless loose hands, and the grass tickle against his exposed calf from his bermuda shorts.

Gradually, his eyes looked up, distracted once again, from his canvas to his cat, now to the tiny particles of pollen flowing in the air. His gaze followed each and every little cell as they danced over his head, the hand that was once on Kabuki, now in the air trying to catch the small fragments. All too quickly he became antsy, aggravated with himself every time he made a grab at the air and then looked down at his hand. There was no fleck of pollen or dust to be seen - instead just the white creased skin of his palm.

As easy as an exhale, he became engrossed with a new subject once again. A tall student walked past his oak tree and headed towards the bench that he was capturing on his memory stretch. Kyungsoo’s large korean eyes grew quickly, turning into big crystal orbs as his lips slightly opened to say something to the figure that sat down on his work-in-progress lawn chair.

Kyungsoo leaned forward, a whine leaving his closed lips. His hand holding the brush subconciously moved onto the edge of the canvas and smudged the wet paint that lay there to set, resulting in distorting the edge of the painting and muddying the acrylic. What if he was going to sit there forever? Literally, forever! Kyungsoo tended to get very dramatic over such matters, it made his heart pulsate exceedingly over an average meter and hands shake traumatically from fear of such thoughts.

The paintbrush dropped from his delicate fingers and landed onto the grass, covering the blades with burnt auburn paste. A gasp flitted through his plush lips, eyes settling back to their normal, obscure gaze only to return back to those large orbs again. Getting up quickly, he stepped over the 18×24 with unsteady feet. Kabuki looked at Kyungsoo quickly, standing up from his pert position with a quick hop and pranced at his owners heels towards the student occupying their field of vision.

The figure on the bench was tall. With eyes the shapes of almonds, lashes long, a slightly flattened nose, he sat with a laidback posture, one leg crossed over the other and a textbook on his lap. His sitting position was no different from any other Brown students. They all held this “cool” composure that said ‘I’m smarter than you, get the off our turf,’ though this guys seemed more… Gentle. Well, intimidating to anyone else probably. When it came to Kyungsoo, he wasn’t easily swayed by other people’s attitudes whether it was high social status or low class - he didn’t care who you were, he was going to treat you the same as everyone else: like a best friend.

Once he was close enough, Kyungsoo jumped directly in front of him. His hands rested behind his back, unknowingly staining his pastel yellow shirt with acrylic paint. In addition to his strange stance before the sun kissed beauty, his eyes were narrowed accusingly.

The guy looked up quickly from the contents of his book, eyes widening in surprise at the doe eyed boy in front of him. A brow quirked, losing the surprise to, ‘What the hell is this guys problem,’ and then fading back to surprise laced with stupefaction. He tilted his head the slightest as he gazed up at the accusing look in the doe eyes. His own brows furrowed into the same look that he was being given. Closing his textbook slowly on his lap, he prepared to speak before Kyungsoo cut him off.

“Oh my…” His eyes turning from incriminate to gentle – blank almost – an accent impairing his speech. “You have beautiful eyes…” Kyungsoo finished, almost breathless, his lips slightly ajar even after he finished his sentence.

The young man on the bench’s brows stayed gathered at the bridge, his eyes flicking right back to ‘What the hell.’ Like a switch though, Kyungsoo came up with a thought. It was genius to him, like he had just come up with the most impressive idea ever. Just as the young man was about to answer with an invisible intake breath though, Kyungsoo cut him off again.

“Anyway! Can you please just sit here for like… Half an hour…?” Kyungsoo paused, biting his lip and moving his hands that were clasped behind his back to hold together at his chest. He continued, “You see, it’s just that I’m painting over there-” He paused to turn his head towards the great oak tree. Moving one hand away from his own, dragging his hand across his shirt on the way and creating another paint stain, he pointed to his spot that held the canvas. Picking up from where he left off in his sentence with a quick breath, eyes focused back on the man, he added quickly, “I’ll pay you for your time, I promise!”

The young man turned his glare away from the wide-eyed-wonder to where he was pointing, watching as others walked past the canvas without interest. Somewhere in his own mind though, he wandered, distracted by the couples that sat on the grass surrounding, stealing gentle kisses here and there, and others just studying, individuals buried nose deep in calculus textbooks and history majors. Idly, he noticed that most of the people on the campus at the time were couples. In part of his unresponsive mind he wished he could feel such a thing as love… Though quickly he was drawn out of his dead thoughts when the oddity spoke of pay.

There was something clearly off about Kyungsoo – he could tell. He spoke too fast, his eyes looked as if they were disconnected from the immediate world, and his demeanor was smaller than that of a 13 year old. If the boy on the bench could feel such things as feelings, he would’ve felt bad, maybe even concerned for him. So, to make up for such absence, he kept in mind that not all his marbles were there, and just nodded that he could paint him.
Kyungsoo’s eyes snapped back into focus from the blurred look they held, automatically smiling at the nod.

“Than-” about to thank him, Kyungsoo’s optical’s turned worried again, quickly cutting himself off and saying, “Don't worry! I’ll add your name on the back.” At his next words, his eyes looked directly into the boy’s dry ones, holding out his hand and saying, “Promise.” That direct eye-to-eye contact turned into a smile of its own, turning up with a curve of the bottom lid. “I’m Kyungsoo by the way,” his words meshing his name with the identity of his nationality. Korean. That of which caught the boy on the benches attention quickly, because he himself was an exchange student.

“Jongin.” he replied simply back, nodding once and holding out his hand to meet Kyungsoo’s though avoided holding on for more than a second, for he hated to touch other people.

As if unfazed by Jongin’s own similar identity and a firm little nod himself paired with a hum of determination, he quickly dropped both hands to his sides, turned his body, and ran back to his station on his toes.