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Summary
Hyunjin thinks he could pluck him out, if he tried. Selfishly, he thinks he’s the only one who can. The only one certain to take enough time to, to stand in front of soft down-lighting, amidst crowds and onlookers and passersby—to stand until his feet ache and his back settles out of shape—and look. Look, look, look. Wait. Wait for the paint to bubble up and crack at the corner, a place too inconspicuous to ever look intentional, because Chan is master of many things, but his ability to hide in plain sight is his magnum opus. And Hyunjin knows this, because all he ever does is watch. He sees Chan. He’s seen him since the very first day, when his canvas was nothing but black.
But there, always there, the gentlest haze of white. An accident, to any less attuned eye. A soft streak of light. Begging to be seen. From the very beginning.
There.
“There you are,” Hyunjin breathes.
Bang Chan and the mortifying ordeal of being known by Hwang Hyunjin.
Series
- Part 2 of strawberry verse