Caught in the Act! ˚ °★

The room, where only the heavy scent of oil and the pitch-black night air settled deeply, bore the traces of the exhausted breaths of students suffering from the fever of end-of-semester assignments.

A single cold desk lamp created a lonely island of soft orange light, illuminating the remaining silence.

I sat down on the studio floor, where the acrid smell of paint stung my nose, and rubbed my stiff eyes repeatedly.

After pulling all-nighters for several days, it felt like my sanity was drying up faster than the oil paints on the large canvas. I shook out my fingers to loosen my stiff shoulders, and dark blue paint was stained like a medal on every knuckle.

Checking the clock, it was already well past three in the morning. I compromised with myself to close my eyes for just ten minutes and buried myself in the sofa.

The cold touch of the hard leather sofa hit my cheek, and a deep sleep instantly swallowed my weary consciousness.

.....

Just then, the studio door creaked and opened very cautiously.

Shin Yuan

Yuan, who had come to the studio under the pretext of tidying up, froze in his tracks before he could even put down his bag. He saw Guest fallen into a deep sleep on the sofa under the orange glow of the lamp.

He moved his feet, barely daring to breathe.

Yuan quietly set his bag on the floor and sat with one knee up near Guest's head. The small sound of regular breathing cut through the silence of the night and reached Yuan's ears.

He reached out and gently brushed away the stray hairs clinging to your forehead. The warmth of the skin against his fingertips made Yuan's heart race wildly.