Disclaimer: I do not own anything but this chapter is mine.
A/N: Hi everyone! I know I'm supposed to be uploading the next chapter of TGR (please rest assured that I am working on it) but as I was reading Painter of the Night—a manhua created by the genius and very intense Byeonduck—this story suddenly came to mind so I know that I have to start putting thoughts into words. Originally, the characters were supposed to be Yoon Seungho and Baek Nakyum but, since FFN doesn't seem to support manhuas—I'm going to be using our favorite couple Usui Takumi X Ayuzawa Misaki
If you haven't read Painter of the Night—or Yawacheop—by Byeonduck, please start reading it now in Lezhin. I will try to link the website to the notes section.
By the way, this is an AU of KWMS since we will be basing it—slightly—on the POTN universe.
I won't keep you here any longer. Please read on and enjoy!
-A
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Prompt: Enamored, floundered, drowning
Pairing: Usui/Walker Takumi X Ayuzawa Misaki
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"The truth is, it is not as simple as being enamored. It has always been more than that. He is completely and unfortunately drowning. And he's floundered trying to save himself."
-;-
TAKUMI
He had met Ayuzawa Misaki nearly seven years ago.
He had been working on his MBA at that time and she had been a young BFA student trying to earn her Ph.D. in Fine Arts.
She was so very young back then, her clothes were sloppy and had always, always been smeared with dried paint. Her silky, black hair was always pulled up in a messy bun at the top of her head. There was never a day he'd ever seen her without her trusted backpack which serves as the storage for her pencils, drawing pens, painting brushes, palettes, and other art supplies that she could stash in that beaten piece of sack.
They don't know each other personally. But their paths crossed a multitude of times at their university's myriad of social networking functions.
Takumi thought she was naive—stupid, even. A soft little thing. He'd always associated painters as someone who could be cute but potentially clingy. A fragile little lamb. A romantic—foolish. He didn't do romantic. When it comes to that aspect of relationships, he'd made it very clear that he'd never involve himself with people who didn't know their place.
So when did the obsession began? He started noticing Ayuzawa's eyes following him when they'd cross paths in social gatherings. He should have ignored it, but he didn't. It should have bothered him. But he failed to see that as well. Because despite the initial impression, he couldn't deny that there was something in her gaze—an odd and discomforting gravitational pull, which, in contrast to his thoughts, he takes comfort in.
It felt like he was suffering from neurosis.
A flash of silken black would move by his peripheral and he would instantly crane his neck to that direction, checking to see if it had been the little painter passing by his way… only to find himself extremely disappointed to see it wasn't Ayuzawa Misaki.
He was monomaniacal.
It was one hot afternoon when he met with his friends. When he arrived, they were talking about how the pay to an evening gig one of his friends attended had been very promising. He didn't require money. It wasn't something that poses a problem for him coming from a family of old influence and money. But when Ayuzawa Misaki's name was mentioned, the offer suddenly became interesting—too tempting to decline.
He was not an exhibitionist and he charged the opportunity as being bored, proud of his physique, and eager to gain experience—although this is an experience he didn't need in the first place.
In truth, it was an excuse to see the little painter in action—to witness how she would react if she sees him nude to the roots.
The gig occurs every Friday evening and when he was certain of Ayuzawa's participation, he was quick to agree to come by, watching in plain amusement when he saw how Ayuzawa's eyes rounded when he disrobed in front of the class of equally amused students… how her blood colored the apples of her cheeks as he showcased what's underneath—revealing the claw marks and hickeys he'd acquired after a night of passion.
Her eyes had been stuck on his chest before it slowly lowered down to his stomach… and further down. And when she realized that she had been caught gawking, she was quick to tear her eyes away, ducking—hiding—behind her canvas, and started rummaging through her backpack as though she was looking for something—whatever it may be. He'd pose for the class in fifteen-minute intervals, eyes fixated on the flustered woman who couldn't seem to focus on her work.
He even had to hide a laugh when the Professor approached her and she ended up knocking her easel to the ground—startling the rest of the class with her strained gawks of indignities and apologies.
She was gone before he could even finish dressing up. And it went on for several more weekends until finally, one late Friday, he spotted her still seated firmly on her stool; eyes fixed on her canvas as the hand controlling the brush made gentle strokes against the strong, coarse and unbleached cloth of the material. The room had been relatively empty except for a few chattering students ready to take their leaves.
He waited for them to leave and when she's finally left alone, still oblivious of his presence and the empty room, he secretly made his way behind her—purposefully leaving a few buttons of his shirt undone in an attempt to get a flustered reaction from her again.
But the effect had been in reverse when his eyes landed on her canvas. It was a painting of him. But whereas the majority of the students utilized pencils, charcoals, and other types of dry medium, Ayuzawa Misaki had been using ink wash.
The thrill that course through his veins was inexplicable at the sight of the little painter using such a refined style to paint an erotic image of him. And she managed to capture every line… every detail, and every shadow of his body—sharpening them to perfection but not overly exaggerating.
That when he reached out to touch the stained cloth, Ayuzawa blanched at the realization that he had been standing quietly behind her; watching every erotic stroke… every line emphasized and brought to life.
Takumi teased Ayuzawa mercilessly, seduced and showered her with different flatteries until she was red to the roots of her hair. They spent an entire hour talking about her painting while he dished innuendos her way left and right. He knew she was into painting but he didn't know she's into ink wash painting. It was such a traditional and monochromatic type of painting that he nearly forgot about the existence of such style.
He appreciated the painting, of course. But he's more appreciative of the painter. Eventually, he managed to lure her to one of the empty lecture halls late in the evening and fucked her senseless on the professor's desk.
The acoustics, he recalled, had been glorious.
They probably slept together three more times before a complete and proper conversation had been eventually carried out. Back then, she was such a ray of sunshine. She had indulged his every whim, weathered every mood swings, pacified each childlike tantrum. She had spoiled him rotten and catered to probably every selfish thing he'd demanded from her without hearing a single complaint.
He'd watched in silence as she fell helplessly and wretchedly in love with him. He watched how the light lit up her eyes… the warm flush spreading on her skin… the staggered breathing every time he'd come too close—he'd watched it all unfold before his eyes. He didn't want to involve himself any further. He wanted to get away from it all.
Yet, he welcomed it all—absorbed it all in his skin every time she would breathe against his mouth. Like her ink wash painting, everything else faded away into monochromatic shades whenever he's with her.
The world is in black and white but they are bursting in vibrant colors.
"You're smitten." Igarashi Tora had said—one of his very few long-time acquaintances. He denied it with a snort and tried to tune him out as he blabbed nonsensical things beside him. "You're always hanging about that evening art class of hers. You've never introduced us to her. It felt like you're hiding her from us. Had it been your other lovers, you wouldn't even care if we attempt to get into their pants. Humor me, Takumi. She's special."
"She's a nuisance. I don't have plans to introduce her to you because she's stupidly naive. Who knows what you'd tell her to do."
"Ah." Igarashi laughed once again. "Stupidly naive, I see. So you want to be the only one to corrupt this stupidly naive painter."
The words were out of his mouth before he could even stop himself. "Fuck off, Igarashi."
Igarashi lifted one finger and started waving it in front of his face; annoying him even more. "Careful now, Walker. If you hide that little lamb away so preciously, others wouldn't be able to help but be curious. You are never around anymore and they are starting to notice. You wouldn't want your grandfather to start asking around as well, right?"
It irked him more than it should. The mere mention of his grandfather is enough to drive him angry to the point of madness. And to prove Igarashi Tora wrong—that he's not being serious with this impoverished painter—he'd called Ayuzawa Misaki to one of the clubs that his group would usually frequent. And dumbass as he was, he reminded her of their relationship by allowing her to see another woman clinging onto him all night.
But she simply sat there in silence and took it all in. Igarashi had been making light conversations with her and she had been very polite to respond. He knew that he hurt her that night in exchange for proving Igarashi Tora wrong of his assumptions. And his heart had been palpitating with unvoiced anxiety that a few hours after Ayuzawa's arrival, he'd abandoned his seat, approached the startled woman, and dragged her out of the bar as she struggled to maintain her balance.
He knew he had hurt her further when he smacked a few hundred on her hand and ordered her to go home and get something for herself.
The fighting soon began after that fateful night because he failed to prove Igarashi wrong. He was right all along.
The problem is, he's not merely smitten. The truth is, it is not as simple as being enamored. It has always been more than that. He is completely and unfortunately drowning. And he's floundered trying to save himself from the onslaught of being wretchedly in love with the painter.
And he sought out a different release caused by the extreme denial of being in love.
He didn't want to see her after that realization. He was afraid he'd become a wretched mess in front of her. He simply didn't want her to see what she made out of him after a few months of secret trysts.
Ayuzawa had noticed the distance he'd placed between them. She'd eventually heard about his exploits. And Takumi, idiotic and in denial and dumbass as he was, would let Ayuzawa see him with random women clinging onto his shoulders and arms day in and out.
And when he couldn't take it anymore—couldn't ignore the way she ignored him anymore—he found himself standing in front of her studio, shamelessly ringing the doorbell until he heard her rushed footsteps behind the closed door. She was a sight to behold when she yanked the door open, revealing her flushed face, hair dripping with water due to being interrupted mid-bath and her breath fogging the eyeglasses she wore in haste.
She staggered breathlessly at the sight of him. "What in the world—"
He didn't allow her to finish. He charged against her as soon as he found an opening and practically dragged her from her doorstep and to her bedroom littered with her art supplies—the strong scent of acrylic and inksticks assaulted his every sense but everything else dulled into nothingness when his nose came into contact against the skin of her neck. He knew he affected her more than necessary. And he was well aware that she'd forgive him no matter how much of a dumbass he might be.
And he had proven himself correct when she allowed him all of those liberties.
But he was out of her studio before the sun could even rise. He still couldn't make up his mind about where their relationship stands. But he wanted her—he knew he wanted her more than anyone and anything else in the world combined. But he needed more time to decide, needed more time to be firm on his decisions… needed more time to admit the fact that he's smitten to his core.
As time passed, her amber eyes began to fill with nothing but distrust, fear, and concealed hatred. He didn't dare to visit her again in her apartment—afraid of her rejection because he's a coward. And she didn't bother to ask him as well about where they stand at all. But he could feel it all… see it all becoming undone before his eyes.
And the real panic struck him when he saw how love and light slowly faded from her eyes whenever she'd look at his direction—how he would only see nothing but pure, unadulterated anger and disgust. She was falling in reverse and he is falling harder and harder—pained by the way she'd shun away from him whenever he'd get too close.
Over time, she stopped going to her night class. There was no point going as well if the sole reason why he even participates in the first place is nowhere. And he was on the brink of collapse when he finally sees the love leave her face. Takumi suffered so many sleepless nights plagued by thoughts of Ayuzawa Misaki walking away from him… falling out of love with him… and finally starting over.
But this time, he is not the man standing by her side.
And he did end up on the path of destruction. Spectacularly so. And he wasn't ashamed showing it to her; expecting she'd feel bad that she did all these to him. But she did the exact opposite of what he's expecting her to do: she didn't cling to him to guide him as he faces the brutal admission of being in love with her. Before he could even realize it, Ayuzawa Misaki was gone.
She'd changed her phone number, deactivated all of her social media accounts, dropped out of the university, moved out of her studio, and, worst, she never even bothered to leave him a note.
Takumi realized a tad too late that he's been completely written off.
It was no secret that Usui Takumi had many past partners, too many to even count and even more one-night stands with strangers who would come to bed with him in exchange for a lascivious smile. He was no saint and even if he came from an old family of influence, he never bothered to follow through with what they believe is morally right. He'd never had a single sense of propriety and he welcomed everyone to his bed. He liked sex—loved it, even. He liked the thought of allowing his body to take the lead… of mind-blowing orgasms rocking his brain and lower torso into a puddle of nothingness. And he especially liked the ugly faces his lovers would make in the throes of passion.
He loved berating them for it.
He was cruel to his lovers. Disrespectful, even. He wasn't afraid to hurt their feelings and is more than willing to walk away once he starts finding them annoying enough to be around him.
But it had been different when it comes to Ayuzawa Misaki. He wanted more and then some. He loved the feeling of his fingers inside her—warm, slick, and tight. He loved the feeling of her mouth sucking hungrily at his tongue… the sensations of her fingertips as she brushes them against his sweat-slicked skin… the way her breasts would press against his chest as his mouth clamps shut to bite the skin connecting her shoulders to her neck.
He felt like an animal in heat when it comes to Ayuzawa Misaki.
Over time, he'd realize how easy it had been for him to lose complete control… to completely surrender every sense… every sensation… every thought to his little painter.
He didn't know what he'd wanted. But for the briefest moment, at the brink of orgasm, whenever he'd feel like he'd be completely thrown off to the edge of the cliffs, he'd possessed it—whatever it may be. And he'd find his little painter all over him, clinging onto him desperately as he rocked her to her core.
Takumi jolted awake at the sound of laughter in front of him. He snapped his eyes open and was instantly welcomed with the image of Ayuzawa in front of him as she watched him intently. He hadn't even realized that he'd fallen asleep already and when he started looking around, he remembered that he had climbed into the tub with her and they are currently in his bathroom.
"Having a nice dream, aren't we?" her voice had been soft and full of mirth. For a moment, he wanted to wipe the silly smile off her mouth and kiss her senseless until she couldn't smile anymore.
He'd adjusted himself on a more comfortable position and leaned back comfortably on the porcelain tub; arms resting comfortably on each side of the tub while looking at the giggling woman in front of him. Her hair had been pulled up in a sloppy bun. A few tendrils escaping the loose tie and curling into a seductive swirl at the side of her face. Soft bubbles covered her nudity and when he reached out to wipe the bubbles hiding her chest, she swatted his hand quickly while still laughing.
What he would give to hear that laughter for the rest of his existence.
Instead, he reached forward to cup her face with one big hand; his thumb gently stroking the side of her parted mouth. Ayuzawa sighed against his hand and rests the right side of her face against his palm.
"Tell me you love me."
The words were out of his mouth before he could even stop himself. Ayuzawa seemed to have frozen on the spot too and, when she finally recovered, she let out a breathless laugh and carefully straddles him; her cheeks and the tips of her ears tinted pink. "You know I do."
Takumi wasn't so sure if the heartbeat he can feel vibrating against his ribcage was his or Ayuzawa's. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded rudely. He's always been a rude little bastard and he will never change that even for her.
But one thing he's sure of is he'll be less rude when it comes to her. God knows he'd never been gentle but he's gentle in his way when it comes to Ayuzawa.
Ayuzawa laughed once again but complies with his demands anyway. She cups each side of her face and smiles at him; her eyes bright and her face still flushed with a tinge of embarrassment. "I love you."
He'd scoff at her in return even when his heart started to smart against his chest; his lungs struggling for air as soon as he heard the words he'd always wanted from her. "Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? You don't have a reason not to."
She nodded in complete agreement. "That's right. I don't have a reason not to."
"Will you love me forever?"
"Forever and a day."
Takumi nearly staggered by her response. She had said it with so much conviction… without a single shadow of doubt flitting over his face… that his mind somehow short-circuited and he failed to make a sarcastic remark about her equally brutal yet innocent honesty.
I will love you forever. But he couldn't say it—at least not yet. But he meant it. He knew and meant it. Knew it to be true to the marrows of his bone. He's certain of it as the sun rising on the East.
But he couldn't find the strength… the confidence… to say it—even when she says it so easily.
He felt like nails were stuck in his throat every time he'd dare to do so. He wanted to… and he knew that she wanted to hear it without having to ask for it. But even then, he couldn't muster the courage to say it. Whatever is stopping him, he couldn't be too sure.
Takumi jolted awake at the sound of something vibrating against his hand. He snapped his eyes open and found himself in the tub—alone. He looked around the space, looking for a certain someone, yearning to hear a certain someone's laughter.
When he recognized the terrifying truth that he's alone… that he can no longer see his reflection in Ayuzawa's eyes… that she's truly run away from him… out of his sight, out of his life, and out of his reach forever… he didn't know who he was anymore. He emerged from the tub and stood underneath the shower; allowing the hot jet spray of water to wash down bubbles sticking on his skin.
The water was warm against his skin. But despite the jet spray, he could swear that he's still hearing her fading laughter from behind him.
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"The truth is, it is not as simple as being enamored. It has always been more than that. She is completely and unfortunately drowning. And she's floundered trying to save herself from him."
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AYUZAWA
Present
Ayuzawa couldn't believe that she's back in the city after six years of living in the countryside. Six years ago, she had opted for rural life and left the metropolitan part of the country. She settled at her sister's place who is a few years younger than her and a mother to her three-year-old niece.
She had been a blubbering mess when she arrived at her sister's place. She dropped out of the university and left all of her credentials and portfolios in the capital. Regardless, her sister accepted her unprecedented arrival and helped her get back on her feet. Suzuna allowed her to take a few months off and even supported her when she decided to apply to the local college. Because she abandoned her Ph.D. midway, she had to take additional courses and finally graduated two years later.
Her sister and her niece helped her get over her broken heart. Sometimes, when she's done with her commissions and nothing's left to do, they would drag her to the nearby lake for a picnic and to just appreciate the stillness… the simplicity of their simple countryside life.
She didn't expect that she'd ever stepped foot back in the city again.
She really wouldn't have if only she hadn't been commissioned for a mural job. Years after she graduated, she started painting for the local community. The pay had been acceptable and, when she's not doing commissions, she would climb the hill behind their house and would start painting whatever her eyes could see. Ayuzawa still stuck with the traditional ink wash painting. Of course, she loves the occasional splash of acrylic and oil pastel on her canvas. But nothing beats the sensations ink wash painting evokes from her whenever she'd use the material.
Her paintings had been personal but the local people started to notice her art and started offering to pay for them. And one even made an offer she couldn't refuse—especially when her sister's daughter had to be hospitalized and her sister needed the extra help.
So she started selling her paintings. She's confident with her work but she wasn't expecting much recognition. After all, she's an impoverished artist who is currently just starting to make a name for herself.
So she had been very surprised when she was introduced by a friend to a client who is an avid fan of ink wash painting. She was commissioned to paint his office into the traditional style and was offered a handsome price. And being a struggling artist, there was no way she could ever decline such an offer. But her only problem was the fact that her client's office is based in the city.
There's no way I'd crossed paths with him anyways.
That is what Ayuzawa had thought on the way to her client's company. She had taken the flight a day before and even found herself a nice hotel just downtown. It was a short walk from her hotel to the company and, while well on her way, she had begun to eye the different promising restaurants where she can take her lunch and dinner.
When she got to the office, she was quick to assess the style she had in mind. She gave various proposals to her client and he incorporated them with ideas of his own. They agreed on the design after hours of discussion and scheduled her start date. He offered to take her out for lunch which Ayuzawa declined politely. She had too much to do and too little time. With the size of the wall in his office, she would need to stack on ink sticks and several art supplies to finish even just a half of it. It's probably going to be a week's worth of work depending on her speed and the availability of the materials.
Ayuzawa had lunch with one of the nearby diners in the area. And after gathering the art supplies she'd need for tomorrow's job, instead of heading straight to her hotel room to rest, she decided to sit by the nearby park to refresh and collect her thoughts. She pulled out a sketchpad and locked her eyes on a family a few feet away from her. They were having a picnic and something about their ambiance caught her attention.
She hasn't even sketched for more than thirty minutes when she felt the strain on her fingers. She carefully cracked each finger and stretch them to release the tension emanating off her nerves when she finally decided that she's tired enough to retire to her hotel room.
Gathering her art supplies, she got up from the bench and was about to make her way back to her hotel when she spotted a taller man just a few feet away from her. All of her instincts told her that this man was achingly familiar to her. She should have listened to her guts and should have run in the opposite direction but she was rooted in her spot.
She'd seen him first. Of course, she'd always been the first one to see—the first one to look. Usui Takumi had been wearing a dark gray suit underneath a dark overcoat. His phone was attached to his hand, earbuds in, and he looked annoyed. Despite the distance, Ayuzawa knew that he was probably berating someone again—probably a subordinate since he looked every inch a businessman.
The wheels in her head started to malfunction and, when it finally restarted, when she finally had the mind to turn away and runoff in the other direction, she was stunned when he looked up, eyes landing on her face—and looking like he'd been punched in the gut at the sight of her. She took a startled step back when he suddenly shoved his phone in the pockets of his overcoat. He harshly removed his earbuds as well and, before Ayuzawa could even escape, he was right in front of her, pulling her into an embrace so tight it hurt her.
She winced when her face connected against his chest… his all too familiar scent she could never seem to forget assaulting her every sense… his hands big and hot against the skin of her back, and his mouth pressed against her ear as he whispered messy and inarticulate words of what she could make as broken apologies.
It wasn't long before when she let out an undignified squawk when she felt herself being lifted off the ground. She had been quick to cling onto Takumi's expansive back, afraid that she might fall to the ground for losing her footing, and was unable to instantly react when he carried her to a nearby car. He drove off at full speed that it frightened her and when they finally reached their destination, she was thrown into the backseat and had been made love to with so much passion it blindsided her.
But then again, their relationship has always, always blindsided her. The two of them have always been an idea. They've always been a state of mind. She'd always believe they are not something to be understood… and whatever it may be, seven years later and she's still not able to understand the mystery behind their relationship.
But Ayuzawa knew they couldn't be without each other. He's a pain in the ass… but she could never be without him.
And however she ended up in Takumi's bedroom after the angry talking and screaming and fighting for hours, she'd never been able to understand.
The truth is, it is not as simple as being enamored. It has always been more than that. She is completely and unfortunately drowning. And she's floundered trying to save herself from him.
Takumi jolted awake, startled by the gentle splash of warm water against his face. He'd snapped his eyes open, focusing on the woman seated in front of him—her face pulled up in a messy bun, a few tendrils coming loose from the hair tie, and the tips kissing the soft and flushed skin of her face. He still couldn't believe he was seeing her—that she's right here in front of him—finally and that he's finally seeing his face reflected in her eyes once again.
When Ayuzawa tried to splash water against his face once again, he was quick to grab her wrist, stopping the action just in time before he gently forces her hand back down in the water. Ayuzawa lifted one eyebrow at him, confused by his reaction, but decided to keep silent anyway.
It has always been an easy feat for them—sliding into complete silence without a single shadow of awkwardness.
Takumi leaned forward, one hand stretched out to cup her face; his thumb caressing the side of her mouth. And when he pushed his thumb inside to trace her lower teeth… to caress her sinewy tongue, he smiled internally when she didn't protest. "Suck."
She did exactly as he said. Ayuzawa nibbled on them eagerly while looking at him; her eyes dark and hooded with passion as her eyelashes cast shadows on her face—sharpening her already perfected features. He pressed his finger on the sensitive roof of Ayuzawa's mouth; taking pleasure in the way she shivered under his touch.
He pulled her until she was seated on his lap—his flesh against her flesh, her breasts against his chest while his other hand worked on the small of her back. Ayuzawa leaned against him and lets out a contented sigh.
Takumi didn't like it when he's not able to see her face. Lifting her chin, he said, "Don't hide from me."
Her face was flushed once again; the tips of her ears as red as a tomato. "What am I supposed to do? I get embarrassed when you start acting like this."
"Don't be too modest. We've probably done all the filthy things we could ever think of. Two years later and you still can't get used to this." Takumi laughed when Ayuzawa shot him a deadly glare. He lifted her chin even higher before cupping her face—he likes it when he's cupping her face to the point that her mouth starts to stick out like a duck. "Tell me you love me."
Ayuzawa rolls her amber eyes at him. "You know I do."
"I want to hear you say it," he demanded rudely.
Ayuzawa laughed once again but complied with his demands anyway. She tried hiding her eyes behind the few loose tendrils of her bun but he had been quick to recapture her face; forcing her to look him dead in the eyes. Ayuzawa sighed; completely surrendering all of her to him. After all, she can never win against this man. "I love you."
Back then, he would have scoffed at her blatant admission of her love for him; a futile way to hide his feelings. But tonight, especially, he didn't. He'd heard those words a thousand times after they got back together two years ago but it still never fails to make his heart smart against his chest; his lungs struggling for air as soon as he heard the words he'd always wanted from her. "Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? You don't have a reason not to."
Misaki laughed. "That's right. I don't have a reason not to."
"Will you love me forever?"
"Forever and a day."
Takumi nearly staggered—once again—by her response. She had said it with so much conviction… without a single shadow of doubt flitting over his face… that his mind somehow short-circuited while he simply gawked at the woman before him. When he heard her low giggle, he was brought back to reality. "How much do you love me?"
"To the moon and back."
"Why the moon?" he teased.
His eyebrows arched when her face turned fifty shades redder. "Well, I guess… it's because I'd always be haunted by those memories… from so many moons ago. When I first saw you, it was in our university's social function and the night had a full moon—I've always associated you with that."
"Hmm…"
"Stop embarrassing me!" Takumi managed to capture her hand on time before she could even swat him on the chest. "You're annoying."
"I love you," he said before she could even get even more pissed at him.
And he couldn't help the laugh bubbling out of his throat when, this time, she was the one who staggered back. She'll never get used to this the way he'll never get used to this as well. And for him, every time she'd tell him that she loves him, it would always feel like he's waiting for a blow to his guts that would never happen.
Ayuzawa's eyes were round and in shock. He knew that she wasn't expecting that and what better way to get a flustered reaction from her is by telling her things that she used to not expect to hear from him. But he meant it—knew it to the marrow of his bones—and now, he can finally say it.
"I love you, Ayuzawa Misaki," he repeated. "I am enamored by you. I am wretchedly in love with you. I am drowning but I simply don't care anymore. I want to drown in you."
Ayuzawa swallowed with difficulty. "But how much? For how long?"
It was an easy enough question. He didn't need the time to even think about the answer. The words were out of his mouth before he could even stop them. "To the ends of time and back."
Ayuzawa frowned. "That's too long."
He agreed with her. "It is."
He could finally say it. But even then, something still felt amiss. This is not what he wanted to tell her. He loves her but it is never enough. He feels like the word has been used too much for it to even hold value. But he couldn't think of anything else. The word—the phrase—has been so commercialized it weighs nothing to him. And while his heart would continuously smart against his ribs whenever she'd tell him she loves him, Takumi knew that Ayuzawa deserved better—better words.
And if he could invent one—something even deeper than the word love—he would have to ensure that Ayuzawa would understand… would realize the depth of his love for her.
"And are you fine with it? Loving me to the ends of time and back?"
His eyes refocus on her face once again; her expression that of embarrassment and awkwardness. Lifting her hand to his lips, Takumi places a soft kiss at the back of her palms and smiles at her. "I would never have it another way."
Hi everyone!
Thank you so much for reading this one-shot. As I have mentioned in the above A/N, this is an inspiration from the manhua Painter of the Night which is a genius created by Byeonduck. It is BL and has explicit mature content so, if ever you're planning to read it, you've been warned.
If you want to read Painter of the Night (or Yawacheop), please making sure that you are using a legal website. The manhua is only published on a single website alone and that is Lezhin. To read the manhua, of course, you need to create an account and pay for it. It's just 3 coins per episode so please support the author!
Manhua: Painter of the Night by Byeonduck ( en/library/comic/en-US/painter)
Site: en
Anyways, I hope you guys liked this one-shot that I've written overnight. As for the next chapter of TGR, it is currently in the works and, hopefully, I will able to upload it after a week. Again, I hope you enjoyed reading this fic and, let me know your thoughts by using the review section below.
Thank you!
-A | TGP