Chapter Text
Ni-ki always hears the same things being said to him all over again - that a job like his would only provide him the bare minimum if he's lucky, surviving through each day penny by penny, and that the moment no one sees the beauty in his paintings, his life is done for.
However, he knew to never let those philistine's words get to him, and mold him into what society wants him to become. Not when crushing and grinding pigments with oils, then slathering it over a white canvas with delicate strokes of the paintbrush is all he’d ever known. Along with the gleeful and surprised looks of his clients, Ni-ki’s heart is fulfilled, even though the same can’t always be said about his stomach.
Now with a sketchbook in hand, Ni-ki sat in front of a pond, eyes wandering back and forth from the graphite in his hand gliding on the paper and the swan shaking their feathers dry. He hid the sketchbook away in his coat as some of the water splashed on him, dampening some of his hair, face and clothes.
Ni-ki sighed in relief once he’s sure that his sketchbook is unaffected, momentarily glaring daggers at the swans, before continuing to draw them with the graphite in his hand. Drawing the scenery of his surroundings is something he’s always enjoyed whenever he doesn’t have a commission to work at the moment. He finds it a calming way to kill time, getting to wander around different areas is another nice bonus.
The last thing he expected was to get another splash of water, this time drenching his sketchbook and clothes entirely. He coughed, wiping away the water on his face with his already drowned sleeve so he can see what swan did it this time, and perhaps turn it into foie gras if he doesn’t have enough to eat (for legal reasons that’s a joke).
However, he was met with swans flying away, evacuating from the pond, and a drenched pair of ballet shoes, floating on the surface of the pond. Flipping his hair away from his face, he looked around to see a boy staring at the pond from afar. Knowing that there’s literally no one around here for the past hour, he stormed up to the boy, ready to give the latter a piece of his mind.
“Hey! What is your prob…” Ni-ki stopped midway the moment he got close enough to see the boy’s face. His jaw went slack as he stared at the boy, gawking at the way the latter’s ethereal fluffy blonde hair framing his soft yet defined features, looking like he was made by the finest of sculptors, drawn by the most talented of painters. Ni-ki snapped out of his trance when he heard an ear-piercing scream from the boy, registering how it’s destroying his poor eardrums.
“I SWEAR IF I HEAR THAT OLD HAG TELLING ME OFF AGAIN I MIGHT JUST FUCKING LOSE IT!” The boy screamed to the top of his lungs, before exhaling heavily as he composed himself. He cleared his throat, before noticing Ni-ki watching him with a flabbergasted expression.
“Oh, hi!” The boy’s chirpy voice and friendly wave is like a bucket of cold water to his face, after witnessing the former screech loud enough for the whole town to hear.
“H-hi…” Ni-ki’s voice became much more quiet, pursing his lips awkwardly.
“By the way, you’re really, I mean, really drenched.” Ni-ki’s eye twitched in annoyance as the boy pointed that out, as if the latter hadn’t been the very cause as to why he looked like a soggy, wet rat.
“Are those your ballet shoes?” Ni-ki asked, rage simmering in his voice, as he pointed to the pond where he was sitting to the boy.
“Hm? Oh… ” The blonde seemed confused at first, until he saw his shoes floating, slightly sloshing around on the pond. The blonde opened his mouth, only to say nothing, as he didn't know where to start.
“So?” Ni-ki interrogated, raising an eyebrow at the boy in front of him, crossing his arms together.
“I- I can explain…” The blonde laughed awkwardly, placing his hands up in defense, hoping Ni-ki wouldn’t get physical with him.
“Uh huh.” Ni-ki challenged, furrowing his eyebrows together as he observed the blonde’s expression. If it weren’t for the fact that the boy is certainly responsible for absolutely drenching him and ruining his favorite sketchbook, he would’ve found the sight of the latter fumbling around for words adorable.
“I may or may not have rage quitted on ballet.” The boy fiddled with his fingers nervously, wincing at how Ni-ki’s face scrunched up in distaste and confusion.
“You ruined my sketchbook!” Ni-ki scolded, bringing his drenched sketchbook to the boy’s sight. The pages are nearing disintegration, the leather cover of it wrinkled, with meticulous strokes and blends of graphite now smudged into the page, flowing in gravity’s direction.
“I- I didn’t mean to, okay?! I’ll get you a new one, I promise!” Seeing how Ni-ki still looked unconvinced of the blonde’s apology, the latter sighed, before groaning into his hands frustratedly.
“W-whatever, you better stick to your words.” Ni-ki huffed, looking away from the blonde as his heart betrayed his current hatred for the boy in front of him, his cheeks going light pink the more he stared at the latter.
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Ni-ki hasn’t seen the boy ever since, now that he’s receiving a number of commissions from his clients to work on. Having to constantly travel around house to house with a briefcase worth of supplies to paint, the conversation he had the other day with the ballet boy was pushed to the very back of his mind.
Though, he couldn’t ever get rid of the boy’s angelic face from his head, like a god sent from above to grace humanity with his illuminating presence. That doesn’t mean that he’s no longer petty and salty about his sketchbook that is drowned beyond salvation.
As he was about to step foot into the carriage, courtesy of his client, a familiar voice stopped him, causing him to turn around to the source of the sound. Ni-ki’s eyes widened, seeing the boy he met the other day sprinting towards his direction.
“Hey! Pond swan!” If Ni-ki was eating or drinking something, he’d for sure spit or choke with what the blonde called him, since both were in a situation too awkward to even exchange names that time.
“Really, pointe shoes?” Ni-ki raised an eyebrow at the blonde, returning the banter. The latter only scoffed sassily, feigning offense, before handing something to him.
“Here, like I promised.” Ni-ki looked down to see the blonde holding a brand new sketchbook, one that looked of much better quality than the one he used to own.
“...Thanks.” Ni-ki wasn’t actually expecting the blonde to still remember after so long, taking the sketchbook speechlessly. The boy smiled pridefully in return, resting his hands on his waist.
“You better. This is the newest one I found.” The blonde boy smiled, patting his chest proudly. Ni-ki felt the brown leather cover against his fingertips, admiring the sketchbook’s sleek design.
“I’m Ni-ki.” Ni-ki blurted out of the blue, looking up from his new sketchbook to see the boy’s reaction.
“I’m Sunoo.” The blonde boy introduced himself in return, his smile widening enough for his dimples to show. Ni-ki felt his heart skip a beat as he was faced with a smile brighter and warmer than the sun itself, as if it could blind his eyes if he weren’t careful.
Hearing the horse neigh, Ni-ki remembered he had a client to visit, hopping onto the carriage, holding the sketchbook close to his chest. As he sat down, the carriage started moving, and Ni-ki hesitated for a moment, before shouting out to Sunoo.
“I’ll be going, pointe shoes!” Despite having introduced themselves to each other, Ni-ki called Sunoo by his random, last-minute nickname instead, eliciting a chuckle from the latter, as the blonde waved at him on the carriage.
Sunoo giggled to himself, his eyes lingering on the painter’s figure gradually shrinking into the distance with the carriage. Maybe, that painter isn’t that much of a scary jerk, after all.