“Later, a painting meant for Do-gyeom-ssi will come. Something far more wonderful than this, something that everyone will love. So wait for me until then.”
At the promise of being together even in the future, Do-gyeom smiled without a single cloud in it. Gi-hyeon cut a piece of steak and held it to Do-gyeom’s lips. Those small lips chewed away like a rabbit’s. Do-gyeom, who had been savoring the food with a serious expression, went wide-eyed. At the sight of him looking back and forth between the steak and Gi-hyeon as if it was something extraordinary, Gi-hyeon burst out laughing. A large hand ruffled Do-gyeom’s hair.
“Is it good?”
Do-gyeom nodded his head vigorously and held a piece of steak out to Gi-hyeon’s lips.
After finishing their meal together, Do-gyeom and Gi-hyeon sat side by side on the deck, gazing out at the vast open sea. The water’s surface, where the red sun had submerged itself, was already stained crimson. Gi-hyeon was watching the waves that had rolled in from beyond the horizon crash and shatter against the hull when he stole a glance at Do-gyeom. Do-gyeom couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sea he was seeing for the very first time. With every gust of sea breeze, his long lashes trembled faintly. It occurred to Gi-hyeon, suddenly, that he wanted to stay by Do-gyeom’s side and watch him grow. The way Do-gyeom’s eyes would light up when faced with a new world, just like today — and the way he’d be afraid, too. All of it. He wanted to be a breakwater in the moments Do-gyeom felt like collapsing, to hold back the waves. And like a lighthouse, to drive away the darkness.
“I wish I’d been good at drawing.”
Gi-hyeon tilted his head at the out-of-the-blue remark.
“Why?”
“Because I want to draw Jakka-nim.”
Laughter spread across Gi-hyeon’s languid face like ripples on water. To think he had been having thoughts like that while looking at him…… In that moment, he felt he might go mad from how endearing Do-gyeom was. Gi-hyeon composed his loosened expression and said,
“Then draw me.”
At Gi-hyeon’s words, Do-gyeom smiled bashfully. His face, already painted with the sunset, flushed just a little deeper red.
“It’ll probably come out strange…… I’ll draw you once I get better at it.”
Do-gyeom seemed embarrassed at the thought of drawing in front of Gi-hyeon. Gi-hyeon watched those hunched shoulders for a moment, then smiled lightly.
“Then we just have to draw together.”
“Pardon?”
A flicker of puzzlement crossed Do-gyeom’s face. The moment Gi-hyeon went and pulled out paper and a pencil, Do-gyeom waved his hands urgently.
“No, I really can’t draw. I’ll show you once I’m able to.”
“It’s fine. I can’t draw this either.”
“Pardon?”
Having finished preparing, Gi-hyeon pointed to himself.
“Keep your eyes fixed on me and move your hand — don’t look at the paper.”
Gi-hyeon slowly traced his own features in the air. His long fingers hovered over the deep-set eyes and the straight bridge of his nose. Do-gyeom, shifting his gaze to follow where the fingers went, let out a full sigh.
“That seems difficult.”
“No, Do-gyeom-ssi will do better than me. Want me to show you?”
The moment he finished speaking, Gi-hyeon began to draw Do-gyeom. A gaze sharp to the point of being relentless traveled from Do-gyeom’s eyes and slid down to the bridge of his nose, then to his lips. Gi-hyeon finished the drawing soon after and handed over the paper. Do-gyeom burst out laughing when he saw it.
“What is this — do I really look like this?”
The Do-gyeom in the drawing, unlike Gi-hyeon’s usual sketches, had not a single decent feature to be found. The soft jawline was askew, and the neat facial features were skewed to one side. It was absurd, but Do-gyeom couldn’t take his eyes off the drawing. Gi-hyeon smiled and handed him the pencil.
“Completely ridiculous, right? Want to give it a go?”
Do-gyeom snatched up the pencil and gripped it firmly. His eyes and hand moved slowly, capturing Gi-hyeon onto the paper. Watching Do-gyeom pour into it with more enthusiasm than expected, Gi-hyeon smiled languidly. When the corner of Gi-hyeon’s lips curved, Do-gyeom warned quietly,
“Don’t smile. I’m drawing your lips right now.”
“Understood.”
“Ah, don’t talk either!”
At Do-gyeom’s sharp command, Gi-hyeon forcibly pulled his expression back down. Composing himself, he gazed at Do-gyeom. Like the sea dyed by the setting sun, his whole heart became saturated with happiness. How wonderful it would be if this moment could last forever. He knew it was a futile wish, but he wanted to hold onto time as it flowed by like running water.
“I’m done!!”
Gi-hyeon blinked, having been lost in thought. Quite some time must have passed — a reddish darkness had settled all around. He smiled faintly and pressed his body close.
“Good work. Let me see.”
Gi-hyeon’s expression turned subtle as he received the drawing. After admiring it for a long while, he rubbed his chin and murmured,
“Wherever this was placed, I’d know for certain it was drawn by Do-gyeom-ssi.”
“……Is it bad?”
“No, it just feels exactly like something Do-gyeom-ssi would draw. It’s almost like it was done through automatism¹……”
Gi-hyeon examined the drawing closely — the eyelashes, the mole on the cheek, all rendered with dutiful care. It was too detailed to be recognizable as Gi-hyeon, and yet he rolled the paper up with the same care one might handle a masterpiece. He pressed his lips to Do-gyeom’s cheek.
“Thank you. I’ll keep this until the day I die.”
“Automatism, you say — do you know how consciously and painstakingly I drew that?”
At the indignant voice, Gi-hyeon’s eyes went wide.
“How do you know what automatism is?”
“It came up in the books you used to read aloud to me. I read them here and there whenever I had time, so I picked it up.”
It felt as though Do-gyeom, who had always circled at a careful distance, had finally stepped within Gi-hyeon’s radius. Gi-hyeon pulled Do-gyeom into his arms. He whispered his love into the shell of Do-gyeom’s ear.
“I’m so happy…….”
Gi-hyeon savored the quiet, swelling joy and held Do-gyeom even tighter. Having buried his face in that slender neck for a long while, breathing in his scent, he spoke.
“In moments like this, when I’m this happy, I suddenly feel afraid.”
“Me too.”
“…….”
“I don’t know if I’m allowed to have memories like these. Even now, when I wake up, I still feel like everything might dissolve away like foam.”
Do-gyeom leaned his back into Gi-hyeon’s embrace.
“Honestly, I never really thought of myself as unhappy before. Funny, isn’t it. But after meeting Jakka-nim, I realized that I had been.”
The voice voicing its anxieties was as soft as a gentle breeze. At those harrowing words, Gi-hyeon clenched his teeth. In that moment, Do-gyeom — who had done nothing but endure his life — felt more pitiable to him than a newborn in barren wasteland. He had no idea what to say that might bring Do-gyeom any comfort. Gi-hyeon pulled Do-gyeom into his arms, holding him with his whole body, leaving no gaps. Do-gyeom surrendered himself to that warmth and smiled faintly. Gi-hyeon wished desperately that these small memories, gathered together, would become Do-gyeom’s pillar — that this warmth would remain by Do-gyeom’s side for a long, long time. Do-gyeom gently stroked the hair of Gi-hyeon, who had buried his face in his shoulder.
“But someday, there’ll come a day when we’ll take this kind of happiness for granted, won’t there?”
Do-gyeom twisted his upper body to face Gi-hyeon. Their gazes locked firmly together, and their smooth foreheads touched. Gi-hyeon and Do-gyeom gazed quietly at their own reflections in each other’s eyes.
“So don’t be afraid — enjoy this moment.”
“…….”
“Because there’ll be far more good days ahead.”
Do-gyeom, whom Gi-hyeon had thought as fragile as glass, had quietly grown stronger than him. Gi-hyeon gazed at Do-gyeom in a daze. The cheek tinged with the sunset glow was soft, but the eyes looking back at him were unwavering. Gi-hyeon, having lost all language as he looked at Do-gyeom, smiled languidly. He closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against Do-gyeom’s shoulder. Breathing in Do-gyeom’s breath, he let go of the time he had been clutching so desperately, releasing it into the waves.
When they returned to the estate, a deep darkness was waiting for Gi-hyeon and Do-gyeom. They made their way straight to the studio, exchanging trivial small talk. Gi-hyeon looked at Do-gyeom’s drawing and murmured in a grave voice,
“It’s profoundly meaningful — for a first attempt, the sense of form is good too…… but the flaw is that it doesn’t look like me.”
“You’re not exactly blameless yourself, Jakka-nim. You drew me practically one-eyed.”
“Ha ha, it looks exactly right to me, I don’t know what you mean. Take another look.”
Walking down the corridor, Gi-hyeon suddenly stopped in his tracks. Light was seeping out from the studio, which he had certainly turned off before leaving. Gi-hyeon narrowed his brow and stepped in front of Do-gyeom. He opened the studio door — and a languid voice greeted him.
“You’re back?”
Gwok Un was sitting in front of the empty easel. The tightly strung, sharp edge that had been in his face unwound languidly at the sight of Gi-hyeon. He loosened his necktie and rose to his feet. Gwok Un, who had been moving to approach Gi-hyeon, stopped when he saw Do-gyeom. Those keen eyes blinked slowly. His gaze slid past Do-gyeom and fixed itself on the hand clasped together with Gi-hyeon’s. Do-gyeom’s hand froze as though struck.
“Did you come down because of the approval?”
“……No.”
Do-gyeom, who had read Gwok Un’s feelings in an instant, stared at him with disbelieving eyes. The expression — somehow familiar — was one Do-gyeom had seen on Gwok Un’s face over the years whenever he had looked at Eun-hyeong. The ominous premonition he had dismissed as an unfounded fear solidified rapidly into certainty. Without meaning to, Do-gyeom gripped Gi-hyeon’s shirt. Gi-hyeon turned to look at Do-gyeom.
“What’s wrong — are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
The hand gently stroking Do-gyeom’s cheek seemed to have forgotten entirely that Gwok Un was there. The hand that had always pushed him away was gone, and so was that pitying gaze. Gwok Un bit at his lip.
When did he……
Become so steady, he thought — he had seemed so precarious just at tea time. Something that had meant nothing to him before now grated at him like a speck of dust in the eye. Gwok Un silently watched Gi-hyeon’s tender gestures, and a cold gleam settled in his eyes. He had been frantically busy since morning dealing with investors who had lost their minds, yet throughout every meeting, Gi-hyeon had never left his thoughts. He had known it was impossible to split himself in two, but he had fought desperately to carve out even a sliver of time. He had wanted to go to Gi-hyeon — to stand at the edge of the vast open sea with Gi-hyeon, free from any guilt or interference. A crooked smile hung on those beautiful lips. He mocked himself for having stayed planted there, like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. What on earth had he been expecting.
¹ Automatism — a technique in Surrealist art where the artist suppresses conscious control to allow the subconscious to guide the hand freely.
