"let me be your painter
to color your clothes white  
and mine black
for the brush is my love"

Taehyung

"What do you think about this?" her sweet voice questioned as she twisted a pencil between her fingers.

We both lied on our stomachs in her bedroom. The sun was setting lowly through her pale yellow curtains. She invited me to help pitch ideas for her art final, growing closer to her is all I could ever wish for even though she only considered us as friends.

I leaned over to view her sketchbook, the soft sketches from her pencil created curvature lines that portrayed leaves and assorted plants.

"I think it's beautiful," I reassured, her lip rose to a smirk as she gently pulled on the page of her moleskin ripping it out of the binds.

"You say that about all my work, I can't do everything beautiful all the time!" pouting she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I think that you're a creative person Emona, all of your work is unique and declares the utmost beauty," I spoke truthfully.

Shaking her head and giggling a loose curl fell in front of her face. She rolled her eyes at my statement as she crumbled the page into a ball.

"I have nothing. Nothing more creative to do, I feel empty," she sighed.

I watched as she frowned a single tear rolling down her coffee colored cheeks and unto the blank paper.

Today she wore white, a plain white T-shirt pulled over her body as her legs folded behind her. Her hair rounded in curls as the messy bun was tied at the very top of her head.

Seeing the most colorful person in my life feel dull and without hue broke me. She's is the one I turn to for inspiration the most.

I hated to see her cry, it had been a while since the last time she cried in front of me. When Jimin hurt her we tied our smallest fingers together as a promise that she would never speak to him again.

Partly to subdued my envy and mainly to protect her from being used by him.

"I'm sorry," she smiled slightly "I didn't mean to get so emotional, I'm going to the bathroom to clean myself up," she rose up quickly.

Pouting I turned back to her sketchbook, flipping through the pages of her art. Almost halfway full not a single page was tattered from the binds.

I jumped as I felt a vibration beside me, her phone buzzing with a call I turned it over as I saw his image take over the screen.

He had been smiling a candid moment and she caught it almost flawlessly. I grew angry and sad, how could she lie to me after she promised she would never talk to him again.

I watched as the call went to voicemail a sudden text popped up replacing his wretched image.

"Are we still hanging out tonight :)" it read, taking a deep breath I swiped the message left to respond.

"I'd rather not, I'm busy working today." Pressing send I scrolled through their prior messages. He has been pestering her nonstop since their last fall out. Sending her three lettered words that he doesn't mean and deceiving her with lies.

"Come on, that lame art project, wouldn't you want to spend time with me instead;)" I read his senseless text feeling rage come over me.

How could he call Emona's art lame? He didn't understand her creativity like I did, he could never comprehend her artistry at all.

Emona was art; something so complex and beautiful that he could never appreciate. He stole all her colors and left her an empty canvas while r evoking all her aspects.

My nails dug into the palm of my hand as I frowned at the device. "Meet me at the park in an hour. Do not be late." Quickly hitting send I deleted the previous messages locking her phone and sitting it in its original place.

"Hey Tae," I heard her speak as she walked in the room with a smile plastered on her face. "So where were we?"

"Um," I paused "how beautiful your art is, how it should be appreciated and understood and valued by everyone," I whispered while brushing the dangling strand of hair behind her ear.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," she blushed.

I glanced into her deep brown eyes and lifted her chin to ensure contact. "You should believe it, you really should."

—
Editing soon