ღ [ CAN I REQUEST A MYUNGCHAE ONE OR ]
I Prefer Blue:paint in your hair, you don’t play ‘fair’; our muses are painting some rooms in the house, a debate between which hue ensues, and ends in an all out paint-war.
dearilings [[you can request anything Myungchae tbh ?! lkmyung
"No, no, this won’t work." His voice was calm, as usual, with the very confident tone he always used, which was even worse at this very moment. Chaerin, usually, would only smile at it, but at this very moment, it annoyed her highly. "Don’t be stupid !" She replied, angrily, poiting at the object of their fight. "It will, totally."
"Chaerin." Return of the annoying asshole tone. "This blue doesn’t work." For the slightest second, she thought maybe if she shoved his head into the damn color pot, maybe he would finally agree with her. "It’s too clear, it agresses the eye." The image mental changed into her ripping her hair off, the hair he loved so much. That would probably work. Even though he was the professional when it came to painting, she just couldn’t feel the blue he chose. She pointed at it, disdainfully. "I can’t hear anything from your color. It just… Doesn’t sing to me."
At that, Myungsoo stayed quiet. He wasn’t judging or trying to figure out it she was joking. Her comment was as valuable as any to him, and he was the only person who would see it like that.
That’s why you accepted to move in with him.
"No." She hesitated between grabbing him by the shoulders to shake him or just storming out of the room. "Your blue doesn’t fit the reflect in your hair, it fades the honey of your color." The snarky comment which was growing on her tongue died like an unwatered plant. She rose her eyebrows. "But your blue doesn’t match…" She couldn’t really explain, she wasn’t a person of words so she just embraced him entirely in her gesture. It doesn’t match you, your eyes and your voice, and your smell and the sound of your voice in the morning, and the drops of water rolling down your neck after your shower, and the silly vision of you wearing an apron to cook pastas for me.
"Maybe, but it does match your eyes." A sudden wetness on her cheek and before she would think of it, a blue and straight line was drawn under her eye. She blinked lightly. "Wh-" All of her exasperation died out, replaced by a playful attraction to him and all he was, including the ugly jeans he was wearing. She grabbed his face between her two hands, got on her tiptoes and glued their cheeks together, smashing the paint on his face too.
It was the beginning signal. Soon, regular paint brushes were left for bigger ones, which were also abandoned for simply their hands. It was more about the feeling of their fingers on each other bodies than being practical. The moving muscles of his shoulder when he tried to catch her at her waist, his breathe on the half-dry paint on her shoulder, the playful bites grabbing flesh and clothes.
Breatheless, nearly unrecognizable, except maybe for the length of their hair, they stopped when the huge paint cans were empty. They stared at each other and Chaerin bursted into a fit of giggles while he only watched her, a indulgent smile on his face but with awe in his eye. She recognized the spark. It was the artist in him knocking at the door of his consciousness, the urge to paint her or to take a picture.
"Let’s just paint it with both colors." He declared, looking away painfully. She took a step towards him and clasped their hands together lightly. "Stray." The female stayed silent a moment. "This is going to be so dissonant." Myungsoo smiled. "It is going to be ugly." He translated, under his breathe.
