Taemin wasn’t sure if it was their current surroundings— the warmth of the afternoon sun, coupled along with the soft plush cushion of the grass beneath him— or it was simply the fact that he’d only just woken up from his previous nap, but the boy continued to linger in a sleepy, cozy daze despite their conversing. He leans his head against his folded arms as he listens to the younger, blinking up in interest at Dae’s explanation. Taemin, himself, wasn’t much of an ‘ artistic ’ person, outside of his dance background, so he always found it interesting to see those he COULD draw or paint at work. He makes sure not to sneak a peak at the boy’s drawing however, just in case he was unwilling to share his work so far, but instead focuses his gaze on the pencil scratching against the surface of the paper. The movement of the utensil and the sounds produced very nearly lulls him back into sleep, but his interest in the subject of Daewon’s drawing keeps him aware for the moment — finally lifting his head up and craning it to the left to catch sight of the flowers in question. The familiarity of the visuals— a bushel of pretty pink flowers— has him smiling softly. “You’ve really never seen them before?” he quips back curiously, gaze turning back towards his friend. “We had a whole bunch of them back home. They’re my father’s favorite, actually. We used to plant them together all the time.” It aches a bit to think of, but his lips quirk up regardless. “They’re not my favorite, personally, but I’ve always found them to be beautiful.”
❝ no, NEVER, ❞ he answers with a sigh, but it’s void of any agitation--- -rather, filled with satisfaction. there’s something reassuring about their situation, a sense of comfort existing in the way they’re surrounded by wildlife ; grass, trees, and flowers of all sorts. while the world’s vast and seemingly never-ending, the moment that exists now stalls time entirely. daewon’s smiling to himself as he sets his notebook down, page open, pencil lain on top. he rolls both shoulders and feels the stretch in his back. he’s been sedentary for a while, entirely transfixed with his drawing. ❝ they are really PRETTY. ❞ daewon struggles to find a better suited word, but when the reply falls from his lips, it seems like enough. the subject of the flowers’ connection to taemin's father isn’t pressed any further, he knows it’s bittersweet and the last thing he wants is to ruin their time together. especially when days like this are seldom. the movement’s slow as he places his palms behind himself, flat and stable while they support his weight, head lolling back and eyes falling shut. a breeze picks up nearby and it’s cool on his cheek, ruffling his hair. a deep inhale brings the expansion of his lungs and he’s in heaven--- -or something reminiscent of it. ❝ i think i’m done with the drawing, ❞ dae admits nonchalantly, signalling to tae that he can look it over if he wants ; it’s one of the few that’s turned out how he’s envisioned it. he continues the conversation though, taking the focus from himself and placing it onto his friend. ❝ did you sleep well ?? ❞ they inquire softly, afraid of being too loud, like taemin’s still lost in sleep. though he’s groggy himself, what with his post-art haze settling in.
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