Chapter Text
Great. Not only did the run down outskirt store only sell five different colours of acrylic paint, but Yeosang could also not find any face masks. He probably should have gotten an actual professional mask but his motivation to try spray painting was huge and the patience almost non-existent, so he needed a disposable face mask and he needed it now. To say he was frustrated would be an understatement. He was so mad, that when an employee approached him, he almost shouted at her. Taken aback, but keeping a professional smile on her face, she offered her help but to Yeosang's dismay, she turned out to be just as clueless as himself. And so they wandered around the whole store once again, looking in all the shelves that he had already looked at and Yeosang slowly but surely started to give up. But telling her to stop looking now would probably be rude. Not that she would care. But somehow he did not dare cut off her efforts like that. His fingertips were tickling and he almost felt like crying because oh god when would he finally be able to paint? Just as he was beginning to fear that his inspiration was already fading, the employee came up with an idea. "Well it is not exactly what you were searching for, but maybe it would be better than nothing." He quickly agreed. Whatever it was, he would take it. Hell, if they did not have anything he would just tie some old cloth around his head. Whatever it was, he just wanted to paint.
Barely a minute later, he found himself at the entrance of the shop again, right in the middle of the children's section. "Uhm," he was unsure what to say. She stood in front of him with an apologetic look, explaining how this was the only thing they had in store. In her hands, a pink children's face mask with a cutesy cat nose and glittering whiskers. Well, he could just paint it any time, he guessed. "I'll take it, thank you very much." He was not sure if she had understood, or even heard him. His mother would always tell him that he needed to speak up or people would think him rude, but he could not help it. He found it enormously hard to speak loudly, if he was even able to say anything at all.
Anyways that didn't matter. What mattered was that he had already spent way too much time in this godforsaken store and he needed to get out of there quickly. The images in his mind were overflowing and if he did not hurry, he feared they might slip away. Not sparing his shopping list another look, he immediately headed towards the cash register. As soon as he got home, he would sit down and start painting. Hopefully it would still be bright outside for a few hours, then he could paint on the balcony and wouldn't have to listen to his mother's complaints about dirtying his floor with paint once again.
He was still lost in thought when he reached the cash register. What about a pretty tangerine sky? As he was putting his supplies on the band, he wondered how to spray paint clouds. He had never tried the method before, but would it really be possible? What would be a good motive for his first try?
A quiet giggle made him look up and snap out of his thoughts. The cashier, pretty young, probably around his age, was looking at him with an amused grin, his cheeks thinning out pretty, dark eyes. His lower lip tugged at the upper one, probably to contain his amusement. When he noticed that he had caught Yeosang's attention, he quickly looked away, reaching for the first item on the band. Then he burst out laughing.
Yeosang, at this point, felt kind of offended to say the least. He felt his eyebrows furrow and lips slightly pucker. What was this asshole thinking? Was his behaviour not way too rude, considering that Yeosang was a customer? Did he have something on his face? Should he ask?
The cashier regained his composure, looking up at Yeosang with a huge heart-shaped boxy grin. Upon seeing Yeosang's expression however, his grin dropped almost immediately. "Oh, wait, no," he said, eyebrows raised up in worry, "I'm sorry" Although he said that, he kept looking at Yeosang, lips slowly tugging up into a faint smile once again, while Yeosang grew more confused by the second. What was this asshole thinking? "What the hell", he mumbled with a glare. He just wanted to go home. "Nono, really, it's nothing", the stranger was now waving his hands around in panic. Yeosang glared at his items on the band, which had not been moving for a while now. Maybe that would get the message across?
When he slowly peeked up again - not forgetting to keep the glare - the stranger was still looking at him. And that was it. Yeosang could not and would not tolerate this any longer. "Goddammit what do you want??!", he blurted. The stranger's eyes widened and he stood up from his seat, putting his hands in front of him, as if to defend himself, or to prevent Yeosang from running away, he wasn't sure.
"It's just.... Your purchase is almost as cute as you"
Within a single second, the cashier's face blushed a shade of red that would make any tomato jealous. Yeosang looked at him in astonishment. The pretty eyes of the stranger looked like they were begging him, for what, he couldn't tell. To stay maybe? To forget what he had just said? They stayed like that for a few seconds, although it felt much longer than that, and Yeosang was seriously starting to feel uneasy.
"Uhm..", he cleared his throat. Through his lashes, he saw the stranger's expression change. Was it.. Hopeful? "My items..." Yeosang concluded, gesturing at the band, "if you could..." Somehow he felt so conscious about the stranger's face, now that he had seen it in such an embarrassed state, that he did not dare look at him. The cashier seemed to snap back to reality, as he mumbled a small "oh" and sat back down. Yeosang heard the familiar beeping sounds of the register, although they sounded oddly strange now. Too loud, definitely.
When the cashier was done, Yeosang slowly stuffed the items into his backpack. He wanted to hurry but somehow he couldn't. Something was not sitting right with him. He wondered if he had forgotten something. But since nothing came to his mind, he finished packing and quietly paid for his purchase. "Have a good day", he mumbled, before putting his backpack on and hurrying out of the store. He did not hear an answer from the cashier.
Outside, the sun was already setting. As yeosang was walking home through the empty streets of town, he watched the sky slowly turn a deep orange, then pink. This was exactly the sight he had been wanting to paint only twenty minutes earlier, but somehow he found himself not thinking about art at all. The picturesque landscapes in his mind had been swapped with images of a face. Where his eyes looked at trees, he saw dark bangs, the clouds became a boxy grin and the pink of the setting sun seemed to remind him of flushed cheeks, framing pretty, double lidded eyes.
He had lost his mind.
Maybe he would leave the spray paint for another day. He would need to inform himself on the technique anyways. Today, he suddenly thought he would try drawing a face for a change. And strangely enough, he felt more inspired than ever.