✷*. toutestblanc
w. @ywhaeil at yangwon inn mood troye sivan plum ♬ in winter ❄
white – and a little bit more. winter had the habit of making everything monotonous, it was almost depressing how plain everything was. van gogh called it paysage enneige, the lonely rural landscape filled with snow. the greens died under the heavy blanket of cold ice, animals slid underneath it, hiding away from the frost. only cats and dogs would gracefully curl around humans, or around a tree they found appealing. dogs were perhaps the happiest – blame their owners’ own excitement for that. but cats were done with the snow. hyuk knew that. he saw them hiss, run away, warm their paws, paw strangers who wished to play with them in the snow. he felt their pain, he would scowl as well if someone would just throw him out in the cold. he saved a kitten from being built into a snowball and brought it along to the inn, where he was planning to spend the rest of this cold afternoon. he let the kitten roam around after he asked permission – which he was reluctantly granted. but his smile saved him, thankfully. the kitten jumped around, but ended up tailing him helplessly. he found his favourite table – next to the fireplace, cosy and beautiful chairs, christmas decorations and an exciting source of inspiration. he spaced out – or thought he did for he did not notice the boy who was already curling up at the fire with a book. he took a seat, pulled out his sketchbook and pencil case, let the kitten crawl on his lap and began observing.
the place was not too packed given it was still pretty early, but the few people he saw sitting around were interesting enough. his eyes averted before him, at the boy he did not see before. hyuk was silent, it was his way of taking everything in. he did not announce his presence, and it seemed like the boy was just as absorbed as he was, not noticing him either. hyuk started to sketch the boy, pencil touching the paper softly. he dwelled on the artistry of this boy – the way the fire light hit his face, and book. he looked passionate, and far away in his own world. hyuk could relate, he thought it is how he must look like when he is playing the violin, or painting. another line, and his body was on his page – a rough sketch of the outline. he analysed the details, but the light did not permit him to read the title of the book. he focused on his hands, he loved hands. his hands were small, but had a firm grip. he would call that the touch of an insecure artist – if the boy was even an artist. perhaps it was just his mind making everything up, since he swore the kitten stared at this boy lovingly. it was the kind of stare you give your loved one after not seeing them in a long, long time. hyuk wanted to release the kitten, let it go to the person it so admired, but it froze. he did not think about it too much, instead he continued his drawing, this time not observing his inspiration, but the paper. he added more rough lines, erased, added even more. he got lost in his activity and did not even notice the waitress standing right next to him, waiting for his order.
