The room was dark, hazy in the early morning light. Tendrils of the sun’s rays slithered onto the carpet, carving long stripes before creeping up the walls. Brushes and pencils were scattered all over the bed, a motley collection of granite and synthetic bristles, framing a sketchpad, its pages open to reveal her latest attempt on the horses. Almost everything in her bag had been emptied onto the duvet, scattered so wide that some were dangling precariously over the corners. Junhee reached out a socked foot and shoved them back in from where she sat.

Sighing, she drew her mug closer to her, watching the steam from her instant coffee curl and spiral into the air, warm on her nose as she raised it to her lips for a sip. She had been up since dawn, having been assaulted with a bout of sudden inspiration, and had been drawing until the sun slowly peeked out of the horizon and the curtains began to glow with the first rays of light. She had stopped when her eyes had grown heavy and her pencil unresponsive, gazing pensively at the outlines haphazardly sketched onto the pages. She had traced it with her fingers, knowing that each line was what made up a limb, and the circles and ovals the horse’s body and head.  She couldn’t seem to get the picture right, couldn’t imagine the texture of the horse’s mane and coat and muscles, contracting and relaxing underneath a layer of thick, dirt-spattered skin.

The coffee was a last resort; she had hoped that she could regain some inspiration if she could wash away the bitter taste of sleep out of . It wasn’t really working, and she had ended up browsing the Internet instead.

She remembered the web address Jongdae had given her, the one that he claimed belonged to the webpage of his friend’s online shopping mall, and curiosity compelled her to check it out. The layout was artfully designed, a palette of white, brown, cream and pink, splashed with just a bit of red. The main page showcased slides of several guys and girls (his models) in trendy dress: jeans, both skinny and low cut, jerseys, button up shirts, frilly skirts and leather gloves. She had to admit that the combinations were admirably well done, fitting snugly on the wearer, showcasing lines and curves and impossibly long limbs. She scrolled through the slides until she reached the one with the two models she saw that day, the high school boys, Jongin and Sehun, who both had the misfortune of falling into the hands of Jongdae.

She remembered their poses, long legs stretched out over the pilings, bodies arched back and smouldering eyes gazing lazily at the camera. One of them was exceptionally photogenic –Jongin, she remembered Jongdae telling her –with tanned skin and perfectly sculpted features. He had an especially hypnotising gaze –half-lidded with lashes that fanned a pair of charcoal eyes –that could to pin a person into place. The other one (the blonde one who fell into the lake, she fondly recalled) had a slightly different approach with the camera. Even though he had his gaze trained onto the lenses, there was something distant about his face, the way his mouth curved, indifferent to the shouts and laughter of little children, and the emptiness of his eyes, as if he could think of a dozen different things to do that were infinitely more productive than this. She had to admit, Kris had an eye with picking models; no wonder these two hooligans were so popular.

She lingered on that particular slide, taking into account the lighting, the smattering of trees in the background that Jongdae managed to include in the frame, fanning the large lake. Despite the chaos he evoked with his little prank, his work with the two models was nothing if not professional. He managed to shoot them in just the right angle, in such a way that he was able catch the proportions of their figures and perfect angles of their faces. He managed to take the boys into a whole new level of unearthly beauty.

She jumped when she heard the alarm beep. She scrambled out of her chair, jamming her hand over the little clock on her nightstand. The beeping ceased and she squinted at the time before doing a double take. She rushed off to get dressed; she didn’t realise how long she had spent thinking about him.

Junhee was never really the one drink coffee more than once in the morning, but after another day of enduring Jongdae’s treacherous riding skills, she decided that the warm cup between her fingers was as well deserved as it was required. They were sitting at the cafe, the one near the lake, where she had observed him during their second encounter. It was an open cafe, with a patio that extended towards the sidewalk, tables and chairs shaded by large, dark green umbrellas fluttering lightly in the breeze. 

She craned her neck and gazed out into the street, her eyes skimming the passing faces, committing to memory the details of the rare one or two who had been gifted with striking features. Junhee had always had a particular for people watching, and was in habit of memorising only the bits and pieces instead of taking in the whole picture. The thing with drawings was that you could mix and match everything together; every bit has its place in an imaginative sketch, and she admitted that she had recently taken a liking to drawing fantasy-based imageries plucked from dreams and distant memories. A pair of long lashes that she had spotted would make a lovely addition to her work, along with that button nose, and those pair of pale, thin lips.

With her eyes still trained on the sidewalk, she reached out and smacked the hand that had been slowly extending a fork towards her pancakes.

“Ouch!” Jongdae yelped, drawing it back.

“You should learn to ask for permission,” she countered, eyes still trained on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

“Too bad for you, I was.”

She saw him pout from the corners of her eyes and tried not to let her smile show.

They ate in silence for the next few minutes, knives and forks clinking against ceramic plates, saucers jingling as cups were lifted and brought up to a pair of lips. She was too distracted to pay much heed to the comings and goings on in the cafe, caught up in one of her mental states where she began drawing everything she saw in her head.

“I like you better when you’re on my bike,” Jongdae said with a frown a few minutes later, “at least you talk, if only to verbally abuse me.”

She tore her eyes away from her latest subject of interest and jumped when she realised how far Jongdae had leaned forward, his torso almost entirely draped over the coffee table between them. She blushed when she realised that he had been observing her.

“Luhan,” he suddenly said, not taking his eyes off of her.

“What?”

“Luhan. That’s the name of the boy you’ve been staring at for the past ten minutes.”

Her eyes flickered towards the doe-eyed boy whose features she had been cataloguing in her head before Jongdae interrupted. He had a delicate air about him, akin to that of a lost young boy’s, but the set in his shoulders and the easiness of his gait seemed to suggest that he was far older than people made him out to be, and more intelligent than anyone gave him credit for.

“You know him?” she asked, watching as the boy tugged out a cellphone from his pocket, delicate fingers dancing across the screen to dial a number.

“He’s in my class; we’re both photography majors.” Jongdae shrugged, glancing at the boy. “Interested in him?” His tone exuded nonchalance, but there was guardedness to his words that implicated suppressed irritation.

“Not in that way,” she said with a sigh, taking pleasure in the moment when his eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “He has very striking features, almost like a fairy, all soft and delicate and very gentle.”

Jongdae pursed his lips, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped them. “I hope you don’t think that’s his personality as well because if you do, then you are terrible judge of character.”

“He’s not?”

He leaned forwards, corners of his lips turned up amusedly. “Some things about people, you only know once you get to know them.”

“Isn’t that right? I thought you were sweet at first, but then, you proved me wrong –well, your motorbike certainly did most of that.”

Jongdae laughed. “Would you rather have me otherwise then?”

“No,” she replied truthfully.

“Well,” he said, voice turning gentle, “I wouldn’t have you any other way either.”

She knew her cheeks were pinking; she could just feel it.

He smiled at her, and then set down the cup he’d been holding. “One second,” he said, and then promptly dove under the table, emerging a few seconds later with his bag, which he gently laid across his lap. She watched curiously as he began rummaging through it, items clinking as his hands shifted through its contents. His eyes lit up a few seconds later, and he successfully withdrew his hand with the object of his search in his grasp.

“A present.” He slid it across the table towards her, which she caught reflexively by clamping a hand on it before it could slip to the floor. The envelope looked thick, chunky, as if it contained a bulk of little notes. She eyed him curiously, but he merely egged her on with a jerk of his chin. “Go on. Open it.”

A stack of hard cards fell into her waiting palm when she shook the envelope out, and she gasped in surprise when she realised that they were photographs, depicting everything they had seen for the past three days. There was the racetrack yesterday, in every possible angle that she could have imagined, the horses vivid and clear in all their movements. Then, there were also pictures of the alley, the town square, along with a collection of other things that she assumed Jongdae had taken elsewhere. There were also pictures of her, some when she was conscious of the camera, and others taken in secret. She saw one where she stood in front of the wings, all the beautiful colours spread out behind her as if they sprouted from her own back.

“One of my favourites,” he commented, and then raised his cup in a toast when she looked up.

She rolled her eyes with a smile and continued shuffling through the pictures. The last caught her attention; it was the shot of the lake, the night they had met by the waters, where he first offered to be her tour guide. She cradled the picture with a smile, watching the lights dance on the dark, choppy surface, blurred and hazy but sparkling like stars.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him and smiling sincerely.

“I promised you’d have everything before you leave,” he responded, smiling at her briefly before quickly taking another sip of his cup, trying, she supposed, to hide his slightly rosy cheeks.

She laughed and reached out to slip her hand into his, squeezing it lightly.

A/N: This is short for my usual standards so I owe you guys another. Next chapter comes out tomorrow or if I'm absolutely busy, the day after. Thanks for reading! 

And oh yeah, since I'm here, I'd like to thank s_rahbear for commenting. I've seen you a lot on my fics and you're my most frequent commentor here so far. Love ya for the support :)

And also exoqilaexo. Thanks for your kind words and your suggestion. They are much appreciated :)