one.

Luhan likes to paint, likes how the he makes turns into something more than randomly placed streaks of colour into something much more beautiful. He also likes how Minseok is the perfect muse, how his mere presence can spring so many ideas into his head. But he probably likes it best when he manages to convince Minseok to sit still for him as he tries to capture his soft smiles and dainty hands on a canvas. (But that never lasts too long as Minseok ends up squirming out of embarrassment, unable to take the adoring look Luhan always makes whenever he’s trying to paint him. Luhan, in his defense, says he’s merely taking in all the details so that he can do Minseok’s beauty justice.)

Minseok on the other hand prefers to observe, loves seeing Luhan create masterpieces out of dots and lines and curves and edges. He likes seeing the beauty and giving it the adoration it deserves, admiring how someone so beautiful can create something just as amazing. (Although Luhan still thinks Minseok is more beautiful than anything else he could ever paint.) And in that way he and Luhan are perfect for each other. One creates the beauty and the other gives it the love no one else can.

Spring has made its appearance in the flowers that Luhan paints as he sits on the porch with an easle finally dusted and used. He paints the tulips, the pansies, the daisies and he paints Minseok’s figure hunched over the flowers he was tending in their garden. Luhan frowns to himself with his teeth worrying into his lower lip, wondering what colours he could use to truly portray Minseok’s beauty that day and the way the sun glistening on his skin seemed to do him some good.

And as the flowers bloom, Valentine’s day comes. Instead of spending it like how other couples do, they stay inside watching rerun after rerun of cheesy dramas with their limbs tangled together in bed a comforting silence settling between them only interrupted by the occasional side comments on the main character’s recklessness. They spend most of the morning idling around, and that was fine because they didn’t need to excessively show their love for another on a specific day. To them, showing affection had to come naturally, it could not be dictated nor forced. And besides, a simple smile and kiss was all they needed.

“Minseok... I’m thinking of starting a new project again.” Luhan states as the male lead of the drama they were watching finally confesses his feelings to the female lead.

“A new one? About?” He questions, his eyes still trained on the screen but the way he holds Luhan’s hand just a little tighter lets the younger know he’s listening.

“Something... special, to say the least.”

The elder hums before placing his head on Luhan’s shoulder, “Show me when you’re done then?”

Luhan wraps an arm around Minseok’s waist, pulling him closer as the two slowly return their attention to the drama, “Like always.”

When Minseok is bored he cleans. He cleans the porch, the yard, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, everything really. There’s one room in particular, however, that he’s absolutely forbidden from touching, from rearranging and disinfecting with his cleaning supplies, is Luhan’s special room. It’s the one place that holds everything he’s made, everything he uses to make, everything that is precious to him that isn’t Minseok.

Minseok’s been in there enough times, seen what’s inside, what it looks like, and what Luhan hides in there along with the pieces of artwork he chooses to keep there and not in the gallery; but has never entered that one door that remains closed, blocked off with empty canvases and an extra folded, unused easle.

Sometimes, he’s tempted, he stares at the door and how it lacks a lock (he knows because he was the one who replaced the doorknob that one late summer) but then after a moment he wonders what he’ll gain from disobeying Luhan’s simple request. So even if the desire continues to gnaw at him, roaring at him to ‘go open the door!’ he resists the temptation and goes on about with his chores.

Sometimes, as the months continue to drawl on, Minseok notices Luhan’s absence. He’s not necessarily missing, but his wide eyes and small smiles are fewer and fewer and that’s when Minseok starts to wonder. He’s not afraid, afraid of losing Luhan that is, because he trusts him and love needs trust to thrive. But it also needs understanding and enough communication. Minseok is patient however, he’ll wait and give Luhan time because this has happened before and there’s nothing to worry about.

Luhan has a tendency to get too focused into things because he’s too passionate, too in love with his craft, which causes him to forget his surroundings. If he’s too engrossed into a painting he fails to remember what the hours, minutes, seconds mean. He temporarily forgets how to function properly, momentarily stuck in his world that consists of only him, his paints and blank canvas. But that’s why Minseok is there to take care of him when he can’t do it himself, pulling him out of his room to set him in front of a plate of his favourite dishes with Minseok softly but sternly stating that ‘he’d rather not let good food go to waste.’ And Luhan will smile and pull Minseok into a soft, gentle kiss- an apology in its own way- before attacking the meal because he’s absolutely hungry.

However, there are times when Minseok feels as if Luhan is speaking another language, the way he talks about colours and harmonies and pairs and all sorts of things that Minseok can never completely wrap his mind around. But Minseok tries, tries to talk to Luhan in his language, and the smile he receives is better than anything else he could have.

(Minseok, when he really feels lonely, sometimes finds Luhan hunched over yet another