Disclaimer: It's not mine, folks. None of it. *le-sigh*

Just an extra little scene that I was wondering why it wasn't in the movie. Nothing too plot-important. I just thought it was a cute idea to explore. Takes places the morning after Sam and Joon's love scene.

Charcoal

Sam woke when the sun was already high in the morning sky, bouncing off the river's mirror-like surface. He lay the same way he was when Joon had left, the same way he lay for the hours he had spent thinking about the night's events. Her lips were warm on his, her hands in his, or touching his body the way no one had ever touched him before.

He vaguely remembered the last time someone had touched and kissed him, nothing like the way Joon had done. This was after he had been kicked out of school; everyone teased him, laughed at him, made fun of the way he dressed and acted. He was always the butt of everyone's jokes. He remembered getting drunk when a group of girls offered him a strong, harsh-tasting alcoholic drink - he had no idea it was alcoholic until one of them was lying on top of him, her hands unbuttoning his shirt, moving down his body. He didn't like this, but couldn't protest.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in the girl's back yard and throwing up. Her mother chased him away, threatening to call the police for what he had done to her daughter. Sam's own mother had scolded him, yelling because he wasn't responsible, because he did a bad thing. But it wasn't bad with Joon. It had felt right and exciting and wonderful. Nothing was ever bad when he was with her.

"Don't tell Benny."

There was something that almost sounded like fear in her voice, fear of what Benny would do if he found out. Sam knew he would be mad, too, but couldn't understand why. He hadn't done anything wrong. He was happy and Joon was happy, Benny should be happy too. But Joon had known her brother all her life, a fair rival to Sam's 3 days, so, yet again, he couldn't protest.

He yawned, sitting up on the couch. He liked how the cushions sank in when he sat down, contoured him when he moved. His mom's couches were hard and stiff, and Sam tried to wear them in by jumping on them. This only led to more scolding and yelling about money and expenses. Since then, Sam preferred the floor. Or the lawn chairs. Standing, he was about to go into the kitchen when he glanced at Joon's paintings leaning against the wall, a collage of colors and shapes, swirls and images. Beautiful.

Benny had never said anything to Sam about looking at Joon's paintings. He only said not to bother her when she was creating one of her masterpieces. After observing the first one, he flipped it back to find several smudged charcoal drawings on beige paper. He picked them up, tilting his head to see them from another angle, stretched his arms out to see them from afar. Sam heard someone coming down the stairs and jumped, his dark, charcoal eyes meeting Joon's.

Her eyes moved from Sam to the charcoal sketches, then back to Sam. "These are me." Sam observed quietly, giving his sleeping, charcoal-self one last look before he handed them to Joon. She took them and put them back behind the canvas that had previously served as their hiding place. She nodded. "Did you draw them?"

Joon's bashful smile lit up her face. Sam knew she painted, Sam knew she drew. Sam knew she had artistic talents that not many others could fathom, but still she said "No."

"So…Benny drew them?"

"No."

"Where'd they come from?" Joon knew she couldn't make up an excuse; recalling her first night with Sam, she cautiously pushed her hair behind her ear and shrugged.

"Me. I drew them, when you were sleeping."

She looked at him, attentive, waiting for a reaction. Would he be mad that she drew him without asking? She never had someone "model" for her art. Joon remembered almost every unique face and person she saw when she went out. When she came back, she would copy them on paper; a man, weary from work, a stay-at-home mother, sick of grocery shopping, a young child yearning to grow up, to break free of his small body and soar in the skies, do impossible things. Joon dreamed impossible dreams. And when she was drawing Sam, she dreamed that one day she could do more than just capture him on paper.

She had also captured his heart. Not so impossible, really.


"Are you upset?"

Sam shook his head, pulling back the canvas and taking out the charcoal drawings. "No, no, not upset. I like them. I don't think you should hide them."

Joon smiled again, wanting to laugh at herself for thinking Sam wouldn't be happy with her drawings. They searched the house until they found a spot of wall that would accommodate the charcoal sketches of the sleeping Sam. "Sleeping Beauty." Joon teased once the pictures were on the wall, making it so no one would ever go to the bathroom again without seeing them.

"Can I…ever draw you again? Maybe sometimes…?"

Sam gave the charcoal paintings one last look and stepped closer to Joon. "You can. I don't mind."

"Thank you." Their faces drew closer, until they were breathing in each others scents, so close they could see every detail of their faces, and their lips met briefly. "Do you want some breakfast?" Joon asked after some silence; Sam slipped his hand into hers and grinned. By now, he had grown accustom to Joon's breakfast routine and had taken a liking to her blended cereal.

She had to be the only one who did that, Sam thought as they walked down the stairs.