For an artist, Jangil could not remember how he had looked like even though he looked at himself daily in the mirror to get dressed for work. He created many works for his adopted family, illustrations of an idyllic life he envisioned, but not once had he been able to craft a self-portrait since he had first picked up that piece of charcoal in therapy so many years ago.
Nobody had really forced him to create it - though it had been admittedly alarming when he had scribbled over any attempt at drawing his own face, frustrated and seemingly struggling to reconcile his adult appearance with his current self. Even now, resting his hand on the canvas, he shut his eyes and tried to sculpt the image from fragmented descriptions and fleeting glances.
Another year had flown by without him noticing. This time, however, he'd moved out of the Lees' estate into a comfortable ground-floor apartment with his two spouses and it had been his first year being somewhat independent since his attempt (had it been twelve years already?), which he relished. He let the quiet scratching of the charcoal against the sheet guide him, not once opening his eyes while his hand flew across the canvas effortlessly.
---
He recalled what Dankyung had said of him when she had carefully touched his face, taking in his features through her hands. "Painfully average," she had snarked to him when he had asked if she found him handsome, but when she had once again traced his features with her fingers patiently, he gained a sudden clarity on how he was presented to her, a jolt he hadn't quite felt before.
Your chin is so sharp, it frames your face surprisingly nicely. Not terribly bushy brows, and your eyes are probably large - double-lids, I reckon. Not a particularly big nose...or mouth, for that matter.
There then came the part where Jooyoung came over to tug at his cheeks, curious at the thought experiment that had been taking place. She had been trying to form a smile, pushing his cheek up with her hands with the same bright stare he remembered falling for the first time they'd met.
It's not that sharp when I squish it like this! Besides, he always smirks, having that neutral look just isn't accurate. You have to smirk at us like you do when you watch us across the room! That way Dankyung can take in your shit-eating grin and know that's how you look at us.
He pulled away, threading his hands into Jooyoung's to stop her from manipulating his face as he once again leant into Dankyung's waiting arms. "Hey now, I'm not taking suggestions at the moment," he remembered scoffing to them then, "This face is priceless, and solely for you both only. Do you know how many employees from Hangjo's marketing department beg me to endorse the products we make on a regular basis? Drink it up. Nobody else gets to be this close to the goods, ok."
----
When he lifted his hand from the canvas, there was a moment's hesitation as he opened his eyes to take in what he had created.
Sure enough, an image of himself was reflected upon it - head slightly arched, eyes closed with a smile that seemed radiant and for once genuinely free. He startled, taking this in for a moment before carefully cleaning up the rest of the sketch almost reverently, as if worried that he would ruin the piece.
A moment or two passed, and then he finally leant back to admire what he'd created, incredulous for a moment before he allowed himself to bury his face into his hands and begin sobbing in relief at his own creation. He felt the warm embrace of his spouses envelope him almost immediately, leaning in at their touch while he curled up deeper with the charcoal to his chest, unable to stop himself from accepting the fact of reconciling himself any further.
