— OH, how this stranger was so sweet and unsuspecting. A perfect prey for a hungry vulture; the satisfaction of a thirst well-quenched. The talk of this man that he was supposedly taken by resonated within his mind, but it didn’t stick. Much like kissing strangers upon a first meeting, just because someone wasn’t available, that didn’t stop him in the slightest. For maybe a day or two, he would back off a little, limiting himself to longing glances and lingering touches. Then he would progress his advances, starting with intertwining fingers and leaning on shoulders, followed by fingers carding through strands of hair and sliding a hand up the inner thigh, and then finishing with a kiss that could knock the breath right out of any stubborn, resistant individual. Jungwon eyed the other, his eyes narrowing in a silent statement that he was keeping a secret; developing a plan for his wicked desires. The smirk that fell upon his lips, though it much resembled his signature charming smile, was a tell-tale sign that he had devious thoughts whirling around in that unsteady brain of his. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Jungwon nodded his head in feign interest as he led them toward the pizzeria in easy strides, putting on the best facade he could so that the other male wouldn’t suspect his wrongful intentions. By the end of it all, the other’s boyfriend would probably find him and beat his ass into oblivion, but he would just stand back up, wipe at his busted lip, and then kiss his boyfriend too. He laughed heartily at the other male’s remark, deeming him cute enough to fuck while his defenses were up. “ I’m sure others would disagree, “ he commented as he shrugged nonchalantly, turning a corner and subconsciously curling his fingers around the other male’s shoulder. If it wouldn’t totally defeat the purpose of his plan, he would whisk him into his arms and plant one on him now, but it just wouldn’t be fun if he couldn’t make it last. “ Hmm, Daniel. Sounds cute. “ Jungwon didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but if he managed to nab someone as cute as the guy he had his arm around, then surely he was eye-candy too. “ Ah, so he’s one of those artsy farsty types. You know, I always find those types of people to be the most interesting. Many of them end up driving themselves into madness from their own artwork. Ever heard of an artist that wasn’t insane? “
HE WOULDN’T KNOW that this stranger is interested even if he manages to pull out a bouquet of roses, or give him a promise the size of a diamond ring, or kiss him in the corner of the street regardless of who’s watching. Atlas had spent nearly his entire life locked inside his room, convinced that if no one were to enter that door then it would not be as painful when they finally turn to leave. You would not know the ache of loss if you never found what was missing. And Atlas, a young boy who had not known love until Daniel crossed every room and every distance simply to prove that what he felt was real, is sure that no one other than Daniel will ever find him attractive or even remotely interesting. Atlas is quiet and boring, a wallflower that never quite fit right in a certain place . . . or a plant that thrives off of sunlight when it’s really meant for rain. When you’ve done your fair share of becoming invisible, you no longer have to try that hard. As the stranger steers him in the direction of the pizza place, Atlas stiffens with every step. He’s sincerely praying to himself that this stranger will not push him to a dark corner and pull a knife, or even worse, undress Atlas and take it upon himself to do what he wants. Atlas can barely breathe now that he’s about to panic, and he quickly clutches a hand towards his chest to try and pretend that his thoughts aren’t affecting him. But it’s hard when the laugh coming from the other’s mouth is enough to make him flinch. Alarmed, Atlas looks at the other and swallows. “I hadn’t k-kissed that many p-people . . .” he admits, even if he doesn’t know why he’s saying it to a complete stranger. “. . . Have y-you?” Atlas closes his eyes at the squeeze on his shoulder, and he looks the other way. “B-By the way, I n-never asked for your name . . . I’m A-Atlas,” he says, and attempts to look at the stranger a little longer than before. But at the other’s comment, he frowns. “Insane? D-Daniel isn’t like that . . .” Daniel has shown only passion, years and years of hard work that always rises to the surface. Atlas has never believed himself to be Daniel’s source of inspiration, just a tiny spark to the fire, but his boyfriend would always ignite it himself. And Atlas, made to admire, would watch him from he stands. “B-But I guess there are a l-lot of people like that,” he admits. Like Van Gogh, who had tried to eat paint so that he could poison himself. “Daniel has n-never shown that to m-me, though. A-Ah, I’m talking too much, I’m s-sorry.”
