#bhjakdsdb

[mewtwo24]

More Jihyun Headcanons

Tbh this is more one headcanon that became two little mini-fics, depicted from both perspectives???? I have no idea all I know is that this is very self-indulgent and I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much for all of your feedback and kind responses to my last Jihyun headcanon post! <3

A long/hard day at work/school...

MC:

MC was having a no good, very bad, horrible day. Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong; or at the very least she felt the results of the day had been lackluster and that she hadn’t tried hard enough despite being exhausted. Jihyun picks up on this almost as soon as the door opens; because when MC is upset she withdraws into herself not unlike he does. She becomes silent as a ghost, as if she were hoping it might help her disappear; she doesn’t call out a greeting, doesn’t sing or poke her head into the rooms he’s designated to painting and producing photographs with a grin. She tends to drop her belongings next to the couch in the living room and curl up, arms around her legs as she draws them close and buries her face in her knees. If she doesn’t appear within the time range she would be expected--without a message or call she’ll be late--he’ll grow concerned. He knows things happen sometimes, but ever since he found her that way the first time--God he still remembers how his heart dropped in his chest--he always double checks to make sure she’s okay if she’s late.

And so he’ll find her there in the living room, drawn and self-conscious, and his expression will crumple at how familiar the sight of her is. Because he sees so much of himself in that self-deprecation. He knows that there are days where nothing seems to go right and your thoughts just swallow you up into a black hole; drawing you deeper into despair than you ever wanted to be with no way out.

He’ll go straight to the kitchen and pick something rich and fragrant from their tea cabinet (this boi is on a mission)--maybe a surprise flavor he’d been saving for a moment like this should it come again--and he’ll take his time to prepare it as best he can--making sure to add extra honey just how she likes it. And he’ll return to the living room and place the mugs as quietly as possible on the table to keep from startling her, steps even and slow, before he’ll approach her from the other side of the couch.

His voice will be low and soothing, just enough to get her attention. “MC?” He’ll draw closer until he’s sitting next to her with some space between them, and reach out to place a light hand on her back, “Are you all right, darling?”

His tentative murmur next to her ear will be enough to make her look up and snuggle into his arms, burying her face in his chest. The first time it happened he was shook, expecting a lukewarm acknowledgement at best. All he’d ever received for such efforts in the past were tears and apologies, a sharp rebuff followed by the harsh swat of a hand. Nothing at all like this; where a simple embrace was more than enough to bring back her beaming smile. Now his arms came around her without a second thought, an indulgent smile forming as she shifted to press closer and tuck her face into the curve of his neck. He’d move his hand rhythmically across her back in response, drawing comforting shapes and patterns while the other held her tight.

They would stay like that for a long time; MC losing herself in his warmth and acceptance, the gentle calm he radiated working to mute the anxious hyperfixation. And the vice grip on his heart would finally unravel as he brushed a kiss against her hair, feeling like he could breathe again as the tension wracking her frame ebbed slowly.

“I love you,” She would mumble into his chest as soon as she felt better, “So, so much.”

And delighted laughter would always follow at the sight of her rare shyness, bright and relieved. “I love you, too. More than you know,” Her head rose from where it had nestled against his collarbones to narrow her eyes at his tender smile.

“Is that a challenge?” She asked, grinning back as she sat up.

He shook his head, reaching for the mugs on the table. “Nope; I figured I’d save you the dishonor of losing.”

She gaped at his sweet smile and seamlessly accepted the warm mug he offered, “Rude. I’m only letting this slide because the tea smells amazing.”

She felt her heart warm and stutter a bit when he let out peals of laughter; a sound more moving than any music.

“Is it sweet enough? Do you want me to bring more honey?” He managed to ask as soon as he’d calmed, his question sincere when he turned to watch her take her first sip. He noticed her eyes close in bliss as she savored it, glad to see he’d made a wise choice.

She hummed, pretending to think about it for a bit before setting her mug back down and turning to him. She looped her arms around his neck, drawing him close as she tangled a hand in his hair despite the slight widening of his eyes, “Mm, I’m not sure; you tell me.” And she touches her lips to his; a long, slow shifting of warm velvet as he pulls her closer and angles his head a fraction to the right. He shivers when her tongue traces the length of his lower lip, breath shuddering as she chose that moment to retreat and rest her forehead against his, equally out of breath.

“Looks like I better bring some more;” He managed when he regained control over his voice. “Since it’s not nearly as sweet as you.”

She laughed unable to help herself, worries and frustrations far behind her in favor of relaxing with her favorite person in all the world.

Jihyun:

There are days, especially during the first few years of his recovery, in which nothing will come out as he might like. They were subtle things and big things; sometimes it would be a matter of colors clashing or shading not aligning quite right. Sometimes it would be an inability to think of a proper subject or theme for a piece. And sometimes it would just be a matter of the piece itself; it felt empty, devoid of the poetic gravity he was known for. Either way something would be incomplete, enough to bring him to a halt. MC always notices as soon as she comes home in that Jihyun is quiet, but not in the usual way. Instead of the caress of a paint brush or the faint footsteps of a picture developing he would be found reading, music playing softly in the background. Though Jihyun isn’t a very blatant person or a loud one, there’s something about this calm that screams not okay to MC. She can’t quite explain it. Perhaps the harder he tries to hide his inner turmoil, the more evident he is in his reticence; thus it strikes MC as odd.

As soon as the silence of the house hits her MC places her bag on the living room table and heads straight to the room she uses for her studies/work. She’ll often find him there, as if the memory of her presence alone; her fragrance, the ambience, the meticulous organization--that’s so foreign to the house it must be hers--would be enough to pull him out of this exhausted rut. Though he knows it’s no match for the woman herself, he can be reluctant to ask for help or won’t know quite how to broach the subject. He feels pathetic that something so small could stop him on the path he’s decided on, that he isn’t trying hard enough.

She’ll be very deliberate, and make no effort to hide her presence when she enters. She’ll circle to whatever chair he’s sitting in and rest her head gently against his, arms coming around to meet loosely at his chest. A hand--noticeably clear of even the slightest of pigment stains--will come up to overlap both of hers, betraying all the things he’s struggling to say.

“Welcome home, MC,” He’ll look to her with a small smile.

And she’ll sigh happily, “I love coming home to you,” She’ll admit with a light kiss to his cheek, which makes his smile grow a little as he puts down the book to focus entirely on her.

“How was school/work?”

“The usual, it was an easy day today. How was your day?” She would broach the topic carefully, letting him discuss as much as he was comfortable with on his own.

“Ah, just fine,” He’d reply with another blank smile.

And she would pause, trying to think of the best way to help him come to terms with this newest roadblock. Her voice would be quiet, cautious. “It’s okay, you know, to get stuck sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less talented, or amazing.”

“I…” He’d blink with surprise.

And she’d continue to talk him through it. “I may not be able to understand completely, but I think everybody has those moments of doubt. What if I’m not as good at this as I thought I was? As I hoped I’d be?”

She’ll take one of his hands in hers and lay it flat, tracing along his fingers. “I think...you make wonderful things, capture a beauty I could never hope to behold until you show it to me. And I think a lot of people feel the same way when they have the pleasure of seeing what you’ve created,”

And then she’ll interlace their fingers and squeeze his lightly, voice low and smile tender. “So don’t give up. Keep believing in yourself, just like I do. Sometimes the more you seek an answer, the more it eludes you. Take a break, try something new; walk away from what’s confusing you for a bit. You never know what kind of insight some distance can give you.”

She’ll walk in front of him and cup his face with her hands, grinning at the way his cheeks darkened when she kissed his nose. “For now, don’t be too hard on yourself. Come on! Let’s go do something fun!” She’ll carefully remove the book from his shocked hands and tug him out the door.

“Where are we going?” He’ll ask, a little flustered.

And she’ll hear the tremble in his voice and know it isn’t his fault surprises make him nervous. “The beach!” She’ll reply without missing a beat, exasperated laughter following her as they gathered their coats.

“In the middle of the night? In October?” He reaffirms, one eyebrow disappearing behind his hair as the beginnings of her favorite smile tugs at his lips.

“I like to live dangerously,” She calls over her shoulder with a wink as she starts the car and dashes outside, making sure it’s warm for when he climbs in.

With the patience of a saint he’ll follow and the car ride will be full of little sing-alongs and her recounting funny moments in her day, as well as all the little things that reminded her of him and how much she missed him. How the clear sky always reminds her of his soulful eyes and how a song on the radio was one they danced to a few weeks ago, making the midday traffic bearable. And she watches as the creases in his face smooth and his smiles come more naturally, relief blossoming in her chest as he seems to find a way to let go--to love himself again.

When they arrive at the beach she runs to the shore and giggles as the foam at the edge of the water laps at her feet; joyful laughter following the light, bubbling caress. And he’ll follow her footsteps in the sand, taking his time as he revels in the sight of her radiance. They’re far enough from the city that the stars wink at them conspiratorially from afar, and the ethereal glow of a full moon reflecting on the water bathes her in silver silk. It won’t be long until she feels his arms around her, catching her as she splashes and dances from one foam pocket to another. Warm chest pressed against her back, his voice will be soft in her ear.

“Thank you,” She can barely hear him over the water, “I was beating myself up again, wasn’t I?” He’ll admit with a sigh.

And she’ll turn around in his arms and smile patiently at his desolate expression, one she knew well as her fingers traced over the thin scar that climbed the bridge of his nose to the right corner of his brow. “You were, but it’s okay. Healing won’t happen overnight; you’re only human Jihyun.”

She’ll watch as his eyes shine with tears he won’t even try to stop, and stroke his hair when he pulls her close and hides in the curve of her neck. Raw and vulnerable, they stay like that until she can sense the return of his usual calm; like watching the ripples that had been disturbing the surface of a lake dissipate into nothing.

When he retreats she wipes at his face carefully with her sleeve and he lets out a watery laugh, wondering what he could possibly have done to deserve somebody like her. “I love you,” He confesses after taking a final, deep breath to steady his nerves. “So, so much.”

“I love you, too,” She murmurs back without hesitation, nuzzling her nose with his and beaming when his answering grin met his eyes. “More than you know.”

I think I have an idea, he muses when she reaches for his hand, their fingers intertwining effortlessly as they begin to trace the shoreline. Blessed with a warm night, they walk and talk about things both profound and silly until they’re too weary to stand.

Jihyun’s next piece--Maiden in the Moonlight--was said to be the awakening of his potential among modern art historians, and remains a beloved favorite for many of his admirers.