deepmentalitycheesecake - Tumblr blog

deepmentalitycheesecake · 6 months ago

Text

Acrylic - Hwang Hyunjin

Genre(s): late 90s small town romance, slice of life

Pairing: Painter Hyunjin x Protagonist Y/N

Romantic tropes covered: slow burn, strangers at first, the muse, whimsical artist and grounded love interest

Note: The fanfic is entirely from the readers' POV, hence the use of "I" throughout

Word count: ~2K words

Part: 1/3 (ongoing)

The breeze lifted my hair up in a wild daisy dance as I opened the creaky door and stepped out of the house. Next, it caressed my skin in a dainty embrace, making the hair on my arms rise up in a salute. My skirt ruffled against my shins, as I made my way up the trail, the basket hanging off of my elbow, feeling as light as a feather compared to how heavy it felt just a few minutes ago when it was loaded with bread loaves. Cinnamon crusted bread loaves, to be precise. I was on another one of my errands, delivering bread loaves to houses and shops in the outskirts of the village.

My eyes raised up to the skies in a silent prayer thanking the Gods for a good weather today. I would not have been in this mood if it weren't for the cool breeze and the slight, warm sunshine seeping in through the gaps in the foliage above me, creating pretty patterns on the trail. Walking with a skip in my step, I for once, admired the beautiful adornment of flower bouquets on the footstep of the florist's, the smell of freshly baked pie wafting all the way from the confectioner's on the other end of the alley, the pretty array of clothing items the wizened old man had on display to sell on his cart, the luscious fruits on the cart next to him, being sold by his cheerful wife whose smile shone brighter than the sunlight reflecting off of the ornaments that a young man had up on small metal bars standing right opposite to them. It all felt like a pretty scenery for a change, when I would usually be breaking out in a sweat, hurling baskets of deliveries to and from the baker's where I used to work at. It would usually be painfully hot on afternoons like these, and my crass self would just need an excuse to be frustrated about how hard it indeed is, for some of us to make a living.

But today wasn't one of those days, as I couldn't find it in me to complain about the life I was living. Instead I felt a warm sensation of admiration and adoration for all these mundane things in my life and it had me thinking about how I never appreciated such subtle beauties that existed around me. The wind blew my hair across my face and broke me out of my reverie as a few strands fell into my eyes making me stop in my tracks. Right as I was about to resume my walk down the trail onto a path that would lead me to the baker's, something bright caught my eye. I looked to my right and my eyes landed on a surreal masterpiece of a painting that had my breath hitched.

The canvas unveils a mesmerizing scene, featuring a butterfly in a delicate ballet of colors. The background, a canvas of pastel hues reminiscent of a twilight sky, enhances the ethereal quality of the masterpiece. It feels as though I've stepped into a dream, an intimate realm where emotions are painted as vividly as the strokes on the canvas. The butterfly takes center stage, its wings a tapestry of hues that mirror the kaleidoscope of emotions within. The artist's touch is tender, each brushstroke a testament to their affectionate craftsmanship. The wings seem to flutter with a gentle breeze, as if the butterfly is caught in a moment of timeless dance—a dance that mirrors the delicate intricacies of matters of the heart. The colors, the details, and the overall composition weave a tale of love, inviting me to explore the depths of emotions that may mirror mine.

Something in the back of my head suggested if I was getting too carried away with interpreting the art and just when I was about to acknowledge that thought and tear my eyes away from it and instead focus on the trail ahead of me, something... or rather someone, made me glue my eyes back on right next to the art piece, my whole body involuntarily turning to face the right as this time, my breath most definitely got stuck in my throat and all my prior thoughts just got reaffirmed. I was definitely getting carried away. But in that moment, I couldn't care less as my eyes spanned across one of the most beautiful humans I've ever seen in all my 23 years of existence.

The lean figure of a man dressed in a loose beige shirt tucked at the sides into his loose trousers that pooled at his ankles, walked out, carrying a wooden easel. His shirt was folded up on the arms and even from this distance I could see the specks and smudges of paint smeared all along his hands, a paintbrush held delicately between his fingers. My eyes drifted upwards and I caught sight of his luscious jet black hair that fell along his nape, the upper section skillfully pulled into a bun, stray strands framing his jawline. Right then, he lifted his head upwards and my gaze locked with his, as I almost audibly awed at how strikingly dashing he indeed looked. His hair accentuated the angles of his visage, and oh my, he definitely has to be one of the finest men to ever have existed. The pair of deep, striking eyes that bore right into mine, had me frozen in my spot, my gaze momentarily drifting to observe the rest of his face, how his eyebrows were slightly scrunched up in confusion, how there was a slight pout on his very pretty lips. Thankfully, my conscience butted in making me quickly avert my eyes in a feeble attempt to not embarrass myself even more and I bunched my skirt up and rushed down the trail, my heart thudding a little faster than usual.

I hate to admit the effect the man had had on me. Undoubtedly, this has to be the first time in my life I have ever found a male species interesting, let alone absolutely fascinating. Aside from his looks, there was something about the painter that had me so intrigued. Was it because of the art piece I chanced upon that day? Or maybe because I just seem to have a thing for people associated with such deep, beautiful art forms? Or rather, was it because it has been a painfully long while since I have looked at a man for so long and observed one so intently?

I realized that I had, yet again, lost myself in my mind. Heaving out an exaggerated sigh, I got up from my slouched over position on the wooden stool, determined to shun all the thoughts racing through my head. Going behind the counter, I chopped a slice of bread for myself from the loaf that was nearest to me, turning around, eyeing for the butter knife. Once I got a hold of it, I scathed a layer from the block of butter propped on a dish right next to the toast pan. Focusing on applying the butter evenly all across the slice of bread, I tossed the slice onto the pan waiting for it to turn into a toasted delight. Amidst the hustle and bustle going on in the kitchen at the back, I didn't quite hear the dingle of the bells at the door signaling the arrival of a customer. I was busy pressing down on my slice with the knife to get the butter melted well, when a voice cut through the chaos.

"Umm, excuse me?"

"Yeah?" I turned around promptly, only to momentarily lose my rationality the second I saw who it was. God forbid, the painter stood across the counter, looking over at me, his lips pursed into a tight lipped smile as he waited to give his order. He didn't have his hair half pulled up into a bun today, instead it lay loose, framing his face perfectly and making him look so ethereal up close, almost like he straight up stepped out from one of his own paintings.

His eyes briefly shifted to my hands and mine did too, to realize that I was still holding the butter knife, which could be interpreted as pointing towards him, ready to probably give a nice stab.

Oh.

I let out an embarrassing snort and murmured a hasty apology as I quickly turned around to switch the gas stove off and throw the knife there somewhere.

Turning towards him, I cleared my throat. "Yes, what would you like to have?"

I could barely look at him for more than a few seconds and I decided that it was a better idea to divert my attention towards what was in front of me... the various baked items that we had on display. I felt the sweat building up on my palms and I mentally cursed myself. Why am I nervous?

"I'll have the apple crumble pie and some loaves of sourdough bread to go please?" He spoke, sliding the money across the counter, already having calculated the price based on the chalk writings that had been done on the slate prop board at the side.

Polite.

"Sure, getting them over to you in a minute." I spoke, mustering a smile as I looked back up at him. My entire being was on some strange electric mode. He looked at me for a moment, before nodding with a smile of his own and I figured I almost melted.

After ignoring the faint thudding of my heart that I could almost hear in my ears, I fetched the goodies he wanted and arranged them in a small basket before handing it to him.

"Thankyou for stopping by. Hoping that you'll like these." At this point, I had lost control of what I was speaking and was very well aware that all my rational thinking had flown out the window.

Speaking of windows, the fact that the window at the other end of the bakery was open, allowing the afternoon sunlight to seep in, and cast an angelic golden glow on the man in front, didn't go unnoticed by me.

I saw his smile, warmer than the sun's heat on my back, yet again, before he spoke. "Correct me if I'm wrong but I believe I've seen you before..? That afternoon when I was stepping outside of my studio... you were there. Was that you?"

Oh. He remembers.

I hesitated for a bit, genuinely not aware of how to respond before awkwardly admitting. "Ah I think so too. I remember seeing you vaguely. You were the one who painted that butterfly?" The latter part kind of came out involuntarily, because a part of me wanted to hear him say that yes, he IS the painter who had made something that has truly been etched in my mind from the moment I saw it.

He chuckled sheepishly and averted his eyes. "Ah, yes that's me."

By now, the nervousness had almost left my body and I found myself really eager to know this person standing right in front of me. Something in the back of mind spoke that he really did have great stories to tell. "It was beautiful" I naturally spoke out, as I looked up at him properly, this time with a genuine, appreciative smile.

His eyes drifted over to gaze at mine for a second, and a smile crawled its way back onto his face before he nodded. "Thankyou. Almost thought that you didn't catch any of that because you seemed to be in a rush." He bit his lip at that, eyes seemingly going playful as he looked back at me.

Oh dear heavens.

"I-- uh, well", I let out an embarrassed chuckle, "yes I was in a rush that day, don't exactly remember why, but yeah."

He cocked his head to the side, eyes still holding that playful gaze as a tiny grin broke out on his face.

"You can .. uhm.. stop by anytime, if you'd like." He straightened, caught sight of my rather taken aback expression and fumbled with his words. " I-I mean, if you'd be interested in seeing more of my paintings.. I, well presumed that you were into art and I could totally be wrong about this--" he was cut off by the chuckle that escaped my lips before I could control it. He looked at me wide-eyed for a split second, before a smile tugged at his lips and he turned his attention towards his shoes.

That has to be one of the most adorable things I've ever seen a man do.

"Yes, you're not wrong about me being into art" I admitted, finding his awkward charm very interesting. At first glance, he does not look like a shy person, more so the opposite. There's something about his natural aura that is very powerful, confident, and rich. Like a royal air to him. No doubt he is the personification of art himself. In the way he looks, walks, talks. But he also has a dominant energy, makes me feel intimidated in the good way, around him.

But who knew he had this side to him as well. Rather interesting.

He was still looking at me expectantly and I realised with a mental grimace that he probably caught me staring again while I was zoned out in my head.

Well I most definitely am giving off a weird and creepy charm or whatever.

"You're new here right? Maybe I can show you around sometime, and yes I'd love to come see your paintings" I let out to which he nodded.

"Yes, I moved in last week and this really is a very beautiful place."

"Hm.. can't say much because I've lived here all my life so it feels pretty monotonous to me" I shrugged. "But I get what you mean. The people are friendly, well most of them... so it's actually nice."

He hummed, looking at me for a second longer than usual before shuffling the basket of items to his other hand. "I should get going, I feel. It was really nice talking to you... " he extended his hand out.

"It's Y/N" I replied, mentally praying for my palms to not be clammy before I reached out and shook my hand with his.

"Y/N." Hearing my name spill out of his lips in that beautiful silky tone of his voice almost had my breath hitched as I looked back at him.

"I'm Hyunjin" he held my hand for a second more, another one of those pretty smiles lingering on his face, before he was out the door like a mirage that disappeared into thin air.

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