Chanyeol’s brows knitted tightly together as he took a step backwards to admire his work. He was an artist, specializing in water colour; to him, it was beautiful. The soft, gentle textures of the paint, the way they blended together so perfectly. Chanyeol liked everything to be perfect.

Placing his paint pallet onto the kitchen table, he eyed his masterpiece. Something wasn’t quite right. A quiet growl of frustration escaped Chanyeol’s lips as he dragged his fingertips through his messy hair. He had been working on this canvas for nothing short of two weeks – continuously – and it still was far from finished.

Lips pressing together into a thin line, Chanyeol pushed himself to his feet and started across the small apartment. He needed some time out of the house to clear his mind. Maybe that way, he would be able to start on the canvas again with a fresh mind and a new perspective.

With one final glance across the room at his canvas a feeling of annoyance washed over him and Chanyeol turned away, tugging his jacket roughly off the coat hook and draping it over one shoulder. Yes, he sniffed. Getting out of the house was exactly what he needed right now.

Tugging the door to his apartment open with a little more force than necessary, he started out the door; a small noise of surprise escaping his lips when he noticed a tiny cardboard box in his doorway – his foot mere centimeters away from stepping on it.

Strange, Chanyeol thought as he crouched down to pick it up. He couldn’t remember ordering anything recently. He gave the box a small shake, listening to whatever was inside rattle around. Maybe it was that pair of sunglasses he purchased online several months ago?  

Chanyeol snorted. Of course, that’s exactly what it was. Only, they were three months late – that’s what you get for buying things online, right?

Turning the small box over in the palm of his hand, he inspected it. Scrawled messily on the top of the box were the words ‘Park Chanyeol’, followed by his address and, in writing so small that Chanyeol had to squint to see, ‘This Side Up.’

The surface of the box was littered with small puncture marks; tiny holes that Chanyeol couldn’t quite see through. It must have been customs, curious to know what was inside. That was probably why the sunglasses took so long to arrive.

Making his way back indoors, Chanyeol tossed the small package onto his couch, watching unconcerned as it bounced off the cushioned furniture and onto the cold floorboards. What did it matter? The sunglasses should be wrapped in some sort of protective packaging. He’d pick it up when he got home.

Putting on his jacket, Chanyeol swung his apartment door closed behind him and locked it. The coffee shop a few blocks away seemed like the perfect place to unwind and let his mind wander. Or, at the very least, take it off the imperfections his canvas was riddled with.

Chanyeol stuffed his hands into his pockets, steadily growing more annoyed with the thought and started towards the staircase, eager to have at least a little time away from his apartment.

Chanyeol wasn’t exactly sure for how long he had been out of his house for, but by the time he trudged back upstairs and down the hallway to his apartment, the sun had long dipped behind the horizon and a blanket of deep navy had covered the sky, casting the city below into darkness.

 Fumbling for his keys in the pocket of his jacket, Chanyeol allowed his shoulders to slump. He had been out for much of the day, doing all of the things that he enjoyed. But Chanyeol knew that he was going to be just as irritated as he was earlier that morning, the moment he saw that unfinished canvas.

Unlocking the door, Chanyeol shoved it lightly open, sighing at the familiar smell of his small apartment. Focusing his attention on the floor, he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up on the coat hook behind his door before –slowly- making his way to the couch.

Maybe he could take his mind off the canvas by checking out his new sunglasses? Chanyeol’s lips tugged up into a small smile. His Instagram could sure do with a new update …

Chanyeol scanned the floor for the package, his lips pressing together into a thin line when he found it wedged tightly in the gap under the couch. Strange. The package had landed near the coffee table. Chanyeol rolled his eyes – he was just tired, that’s all.

Unwedging the package from under the couch, Chanyeol’s brow furrowed in confusion. The small cluster of holes that littered the surface of the box had been ripped, a gaping hole now left in its place. Peering into the box, Chanyeol frowned. It was completely empty.

Had somebody broken into his house while he was out? Why would they want sunglasses, of all things? Dropping the empty box to the floor, Chanyeol got to his feet. What else did they take? A wave of panic washed across him. What if the thief was still somewhere in the house?

Making his way cautiously into the kitchen, something bright caught his attention from the corner of his eye and he froze. Was that … No, it couldn’t be.

Turning slowly to face his canvas, Chanyeol’s jaw hung open in disbelief. 

Tiny handprints defaced the canvas, splashes of paint here and there. His pallet had been knocked over, the floorboards now stained with a mix of bright colours. But probably what confused Chanyeol the most was the tiny trail of paint-footprints that lead away from the canvas and into his bathroom.

What was this? Was this one of his friends’ idea of a joke? His canvas had been ruined and his floor was covered in paint! 

Chanyeol bristled at the very thought of it.

Following the miniature footprints into his bathroom, a startled scream escaped his throat. Toothpaste was smeared across the mirror, the sink had been filled with water and was now overflowing onto the floor.

But the most shocking to Chanyeol was the tiny figure no bigger than the palm of his hand that sat atop the tap, legs swinging back and forth and a broad grin on its very human like face.

Chanyeol tried again and again to voice his shock, but all that escaped his mouth was a gurgle of sounds that resembled nothing close to a language. No matter how hard he tried, Chanyeol couldn’t seem to find his tongue.

Instead, the minature being looked up at him, his grin reaching his eyes.

“You are an artist?” he asked eagerly, his voice soft; quiet.

Still unable to speak, Chanyeol offered him a simple nod.

The tiny male gestured up at the mirror, coated in mint toothpaste.

“I wanted to try it too!” he exclaimed. “Do you like it? I painted it for you.”

At last, Chanyeol managed to find his tongue. He crossed the length of the bathroom in a single stride and shut off the faucet. Tugging the plug out of the sink, he watched as the water drained slowly.

“My canvas. What did you do to it?” he said angrily.

The minature male flinched in surprise. “You don’t like it?” he asked quietly and Chanyeol shook his head.

“No,” he said crossly. “I don’t. I’ve worked so hard on it, and you just … You- ”

Hopping off the tap, the tiny figure made his way around the perimeter of the sink and stopped. Chanyeol noticed for the first time the flecks of paint smeared across his face and all over his clothes.

“I’m sorry,” he squeaked. “I tried my best. I … I just wanted to help.”

Chanyeol sighed, dragging his fingertips through his messy hair. What was done had been done. He couldn’t change that fact.

They tiny figure shifted uncomfortably under Chanyeol’s stare, focusing his attention on his shirt, now splashed with paint. He fiddled with the hem uncomfortably. It wasn’t his intention to make Chanyeol angry. He only wanted to try and make him smile.That was all. Did Chanyeol not like his painting that much?

The bathroom mirror had been scrubbed to perfection, all previous toothpaste smears and handprints had been wiped clean. After doing the best he could to mop up the tiny footprints that trailed through his house, he sat – exhausted – on his couch. The tiny figure sat on the arm rest, legs crossed, staring up at him intently.

“What are you?” Chanyeol asked after several long moments of silence.

His confusion seemed to amuse the other, a wide grin spreading across his tiny face.

“I’m Baekhyun,” he chirped happily.

Chanyeol’s brow furrowed. “No,” he said. “What are you? Not who.”

Baekhyun pondered this for a long moment before smiling once more.

“Baekhyun,” he responded. “I am Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol resisted the urge to sigh. “No,” he said, trying again. “I mean -“

“But I am Baekhyun,” the smaller insisted, confused by Chanyeol's remark.  “If I’m not Baekhyun, then what am I?”

For what felt like the umpteenth time that day, Chanyeol sighed. “Alright, alright,” he said in defeat. “You’re Baekhyun. I’m Chanyeol.”

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun blinked. “Why are you so tall?”

“Tall? I, oh forget it.”

“Are you a giant?”

“No, I am not.”

“I think you are,” Baekhyun smiled happily. “Mister Giant?”

“It’s Chanyeol,” he corrected, rubbing his temples. This must be what it feels like to have a child. The continuous string of questions were making his head throb.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun said quietly, stretching out on the couch arm. A few long moments of silence passed between the two, and Chanyeol sighed inwardly with relief.

“Mister Chanyeol Giant?” Baekhyun asked. “Can I stay here with you?”

Chanyeol straightened up immediately. Did he hear that correctly?

“No,” he replied flatly.

“But …” Baekhyun began. “Please?”

“No,” Chanyeol repeated. “You are not staying here.”

At this, Baekhyun began to panic. Climbing down from the arm rest, he made his way across the couch and -with quite a lot of effort- clambered up onto Chanyeol’s knee.

“Please?" he begged. "I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Chanyeol looked down at the tiny human-like being on his knee. As much as he would not like to admit, he knew he couldn’t just leave Baekhyun to fend for himself.

Baekhyun shifted nervously on Chanyeol’s knee. Was the giant really that angry at him for helping him with his canvas? That had to be it. Sniffing, Baekhyun lifted his gaze to look up at Chanyeol.

“I’m really sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to ruin your canvas. I just wanted to help and-”

“If I let you stay,” Chanyeol began warily, “will you stop asking so many questions?”

“Of course!” Baekhyun squeaked.

“Good.”

Baekhyun beamed happily, wrapping his tiny arms around Chanyeol’s wrist in the biggest hug he could muster.

“Thank you!”

“Sure. Now remember, no questions. Okay?”

“Promise!” Baekhyun chirped before furrowing his brows. There were so many things he wanted to ask, so many strange, unfamiliar things in Chanyeol’s house he wanted to know about. But Chanyeol had made him promise not to ask any questions.

Baekhyun shook his head. He couldn’t keep them in for very much longer.

“Mister Giant?”

Chanyeol sighed. This was going to be a very long night.