By Zephyria 
After noon had passed, Seo Yi-kyung appeared on the first floor. In the morning, he had seen Han Seung-jae off and returned to his room to crawl into bed. Whether it was because he had eaten or because he was carrying a child, he had been so overwhelmed by sleep that he couldn’t resist it. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he had fallen fast asleep.
After a nap, the pain that had surged with every step he took had lessened slightly. Walking out of the elevator, Seo Yi-kyung covered his lips as yawns kept escaping. Even while doing so, he continued to yawn. Maybe he should have slept longer. Just then, Butler Do, who was moving about the living room, spotted him and approached.
“Young Master, you’ve come down? Shall I prepare lunch for you now?”
“No… I’m planning to stay in the painting studio for a bit…”
Perhaps because he had just woken up, he had no appetite.
“Then shall I prepare some tea?”
As Butler Do asked, Seo Yi-kyung told him to bring the tea to the painting studio and continued walking without stopping.
Seo Yi-kyung unfolded the apron folded on the work table and looped it around his neck.
Knock, knock. At the sound of the knocking, Seo Yi-kyung turned his head. Butler Do had brought a tray containing tea, sandwiches, and even fruit.
While Seo Yi-kyung was tying the strings of his apron, Butler Do lifted the teapot and filled the teacup. Watching the white steam curling upward, he murmured.
“The atmosphere of the painting studio has changed a lot from before.”
Seo Yi-kyung agreed. He turned his head to the side. Perhaps it was because of the paintings Han Seung-jae had bought for the walls, the expensive artifacts resting in the sparkling glass display cases, and the baby supplies Jin Seon-yu had gifted him. The painting studio exuded an atmosphere that was noble, yet peaceful and cozy. It was not a sight one could easily find anywhere else.
Butler Do moved the teacup in front of Seo Yi-kyung.
“The Young Master’s atmosphere is the same.”
Looking at the smiling Butler Do, Seo Yi-kyung hesitated on how to respond. In the meantime, Butler Do continued.
“I think it’s better now, in my opinion. Before, you were far too immersed only in your paintings. I was quite worried about that, but now you have a good friend by your side…”
He knew that Jin Seon-yu was a good person. He had experienced it firsthand.
“And Director Han seems to be a good person as well.”
When Han Seung-jae was mentioned, Seo Yi-kyung picked up the teacup as if avoiding the answer, blew on the tea to cool it slightly, and drank. The tea that swept through his mouth and slid down his throat was warm. Warmth spread throughout his entire body.
Once Butler Do left the painting studio, Seo Yi-kyung chose a brush. He placed a chair in front of the canvas and sat down, glancing at Jin Seon-yu’s painting a short distance away. Compared to him, Seo Yi-kyung’s painting skills were still progressing slowly.
He didn’t think he could become great overnight, but he still wanted to finish it. Since his hands were slow, he had no choice but to dedicate more time to it.
* * *
Around evening, a commotion spread through the quiet house. Butler Do greeted Han Seung-jae as he entered the house. Because he usually finished work near midnight, Butler Do only saw him occasionally when Han Seung-jae sought him out. However, today he had arrived early.
“Welcome back. Director Han, what shall we do for dinner?”
Although the clock on the wall pointed to 10 o’clock, Butler Do asked. After all, wasn’t Han Seung-jae the one who had ordered meal preparations even in the early hours of the morning? Of course, that was only for Seo Yi-kyung to eat. Thus, there was a reason for Butler Do to ask. Unaware of this, Han Seung-jae spoke briefly.
“I’m not thinking of eating.”
Han Seung-jae headed for the dressing room. After he took off his outer coat and changed his clothes, Butler Do, who had been standing as if waiting for him, spoke.
“Shall I bring tea to the study?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
He was the type who disliked being disturbed when working in the study. Without even glancing at Butler Do, Han Seung-jae tried to pass him and head toward the elevator. Then, Butler Do offered information that hadn’t been asked for.
“The Young Master is in the painting studio.”
Han Seung-jae, who had been adjusting the sleeves of his dress shirt, shifted his gaze to the clock over Butler Do’s shoulder. It was well past 10 o’clock. He must still be painting.
Han Seung-jae turned around and headed for the painting studio.
As the studio door opened, Seo Yi-kyung’s back came into view. He was positioned in front of the canvas, sitting on a wooden chair.
Seo Yi-kyung didn’t budge even as Han Seung-jae approached. After a moment, he seemed to move his head slightly, then returned to the same posture.
Approaching from the side, Han Seung-jae’s gaze lingered on the canvas depicting a garden. After looking at the unfinished painting, his gaze shifted to Seo Yi-kyung. Even though he was this close, Seo Yi-kyung gave no reaction.
Han Seung-jae looked down at Seo Yi-kyung, whose head was tilted slightly. He thought the other was so excessively focused that he didn’t realize he had approached, but Seo Yi-kyung had his eyes closed quite seriously.
On his pale face were light-colored eyebrows, long eyelashes, a rounded tip of the nose, and reddish lips that were slightly parted. Holding a brush in his small hand, Seo Yi-kyung looked as if he were lost in deep agony at a glance, but the way his head nodded occasionally suggested he was dozing off.
Han Seung-jae watched him for a moment and then looked around. He hadn’t visited the painting studio for a while. In that time, the studio had become filled with items he hadn’t seen before. Suddenly, Han Seung-jae’s gaze landed on a sword on the shelf.
Just then, Seo Yi-kyung rubbed his eyes with the back of the hand holding the brush. Dark paint, used for drawing trees, smeared across his cheek.
“…!”
Suddenly, Seo Yi-kyung lifted his head. A tall figure was standing there. Seo Yi-kyung’s eyes widened. He wasn’t seeing things. The person next to him was, by all accounts, Han Seung-jae.
“Are you awake?”
Slowly turning his head to look down at Seo Yi-kyung, Han Seung-jae’s eyebrow arched slightly. He reached out, looking at the dark paint on the cheek that had been white just a moment ago.
As Han Seung-jae gripped his chin and lifted it up, a bewildered Seo Yi-kyung opened his lips.
“W-when did you come?”
Seo Yi-kyung had been painting in the studio throughout the evening, eating sandwiches. However, he couldn’t help the drowsiness that crashed over him as his eyes closed.
“A moment ago.”
Han Seung-jae answered indifferently, reaching out with his other hand to pull a tissue from the work table. One of Seo Yi-kyung’s eyes crinkled. It was because Han Seung-jae was rubbing his cheek.
“Is… something on me?”
“It’s not coming off easily.”
“I think I got paint on me.”
“It looks that way.”
Seo Yi-kyung looked at Han Seung-jae’s face right in front of him. His cold eyes showed not a hint of disarray. His deep gaze seemed to become even more distinct, and their eyes met. Seo Yi-kyung hurriedly raised his arm and pushed Han Seung-jae’s hand away.
Han Seung-jae’s fingers, which had been touching under his chin, felt cool and refreshing. That was likely because heat was spreading across Seo Yi-kyung’s face.
“Ah.”
Seo Yi-kyung’s mouth fell open. He had only thought about removing Han Seung-jae’s hand from under his chin, forgetting the fact that he was holding a brush. Because he had swung the brush, a long streak had formed from Han Seung-jae’s sleeve to the back of his hand.
“It might come off if we do it now.”
That might be true for the hand, but the stain on the shirt wouldn’t be wiped clean. Still, he couldn’t just stand still. Seo Yi-kyung stood up, placed the brush he was holding on the work table, and grabbed a container of oil. Oil paints are mixed with oil, so they don’t wipe away well with water alone.
Seo Yi-kyung pulled Han Seung-jae’s hand toward him and wiped the back of it with a thin cloth. The long streak gradually disappeared. Seo Yi-kyung’s fingers, supporting the large hand, reached the sleeve of Han Seung-jae’s dress shirt.
The more he rubbed, the fainter it became, but it couldn’t be called completely clean. A faint stain remained.
“What should I do…”
Seo Yi-kyung had many clothes ruined like this. That was why he tended to work in clothes already stained with paint that couldn’t be worn outside. But there was no way Han Seung-jae would wear clothes with stains. This shirt would be thrown away. And it looked like an expensive shirt…
Seo Yi-kyung looked up with a troubled face. Even then, Han Seung-jae was still looking down at him.
As their eyes met, Seo Yi-kyung realized he was gripping Han Seung-jae’s hand too tightly. However, letting go abruptly felt awkward. Wouldn’t it make him think he was conscious of it? Seo Yi-kyung slowly let go of Han Seung-jae’s hand.
Han Seung-jae looked at the minute amount of paint on the back of his hand and the trajectory of the brush stretching long across his sleeve, then spoke.
“It seems I’ll have some time this weekend for a change.”
“….”
Han Seung-jae shifted his gaze from his sleeve and looked down intently at Seo Yi-kyung.
“Shall we go to the Ivory Pavilion?”