Not His To Love, rewrite.
rewriting my mess of a fanfiction,
Jeno smiled as he dipped the brush in the paint and smeared it onto his canvas. The colors of the painting mixing together as he blended it.
âHi, is Jeno here?â You smiled, walking into the classroom.
Jeno pauses, not finishing his brushstroke. He cleans off the brush, and leaves it to rest on a paper towel.
âHey, whatâs up?â He asks, and it rolls off his tongue smoother than he thought it would. His chest pounds, he can practically hear the blood rush through his ears out of nervousness.
Maybe youâre talking, he canât tell because his mind wanders off to a far away place. He dreams about taking you on a ride through gorgeous lavender fields, or to his house so you can meet his beloved pets.
He wants to love you, and he especially wants you to know it. But how could you? You were Markâs to love unconditionally.
âHey, are you listening to me?â You laugh, waving your hand in front of his eyes trying to get a little bit of his attention back.
âYeah!â He respondes hurriedly, and you jump back a little at his volume.
âMark and I were wondering if youâd like to tag along with us to the arcade? Jaemin and Renjun are gonna be there too, so you wonât be third wheeling!â
You were still like a mid-summer fever dream to him. He wished you only passed in his dream though, but he knew better.
Murdered, found in an alleyway. How was that even possible? It all felt fake to him, and his canvas was a bloody mess of dripping blues. It wasnât even art, it didnât even look like you anymore. God, what did you look like?
He canât remember.
He just knows youâre not his to love, not Markâs either. The lavender fields of some unknown dreamland had you now. He wished it was him instead.
