Taeyong was a pretty good artist, he sketched from time to time, to keep himself occupied. One of the walls in his rooms was covered in doodles he did when he was sixteen. Granted, they were slightly messy, and probably not perfect at all, but he could do it.

However, he seemed to forget that you were not like him. The two of you were similar in many, many ways, but artistry wasn't one of them.

So when he suggested the two of you try and follow a Bob Ross tutorial, you were pretty skeptical, but agreed anyway. Couldn't have been that bad, right?
Well, right! Until of course you hit your roadblock.

The thing about Bob Ross was his amazing voice, which was somehow aesthetic. It was so soothing and therapeutic that you could listen to him all day. And he was such a precious soul in all honesty, talking about little random things in his life and somehow making it exciting.

The next time someone needed therapy, or just some me time, you'd suggest the Joy Of Painting. There were several seasons, enough to keep you occupied for a long, long time.

But you were indulging so much in the joy part, that you forgot about the painting bit. He gave you so much joy that when you glanced over at Taeyong's canvas, you were hit with the opposite of Joy: distress.

He had already finished with the mountains, which raised questions. How the fuck did he do it? The two of you didn't even have a palette knife! Goodness gracious, he was already adding the frost.

So you, in your alarm, decided to pick up your pace, realizing all you had done was the background, a light blue wash over the titanium white. The next step? The happy little clouds.

Except your clouds looked anything but happy.

They were the definition of sad, they were chunky and nothing like Bob's. Frustrated and tired, you gave up, placing your brushes down and settled for watching your best friend. He was focused on his piece, which was coming in together much better than yours had.

All you had left to do was beat the devil out of the brush, and that was exactly what you did, hitting the brush back and forth aggressively on the easel, until you caught Taeyong's attention, who stared at you in mild horror.

"Are you okay-?"

"I'm doing the only thing I can do because I gave up," you explained, and kept the poor beat up brush to the side, "I'll just watch you or something."

"Sitting there I might as well paint you," he said with a smirk, "You're prettier than the scenery."

The flirting sent heat to your face as you stared at him baffled before shaking it off and getting to your feet, "Aha! Lee Taeyong thinks I'm beautiful!" Placing a hand on your hip, you struck a pose, puckering your lips.

He frowned, "I take it back, you're the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

You gasped, "Rude." Muttering this under your breath, you regained the confidence and struck a pose, "Paint me like one of your french girls."

And it was Taeyongs turn to stare at you in bewilderment, a flushed look on his face. His cheeks glowed red as he stared at you before looking away, and clearing his throat, "Uh-you know what that means right?"

You blinked, "What?"
"In the movie that means she wants him to draw her naked."

You coughed, "The fuck? Dude I was just going to get a baguette."

The two of you burst into a fit of nervous giggles, attempting to dissipate the tension in the room after that.

That night you make sure to rewatch Titanic.

~
Taeyong was pretty protective of his friends, it was just a quality he possessed. He liked taking care of things, it was in his nature, from the little crawfish in his room to his best friend that happened to be you.

You who was currently sitting on your desk, head resting on the top of the table, fast asleep. Your laptop screen had blackened, forgotten about in the midst of his slumber. It was about three in the morning, and he had seen that your light was on, so climbed into your room only to find you in your current state.

And yes, he was concerned. He knew what happened to you everytime you overworked yourself, you would fall sick and then demand take out. He wanted to avoid that all together, not the getting taking out part, but the falling sick part.

Lately he had observed your late night sessions were increasing, often he would look over from his screen to see your light shining with your silhouette hunched over your desk, or you walking about your room with a book in your hand.

Sure, midterms were coming up and it was essential that you studied, but he wanted to you avoid exhausting yourself, and so today he had decided to put an end to the late night saga (even though it was three in the morning) and was going to force you to sleep.

Except when he climbed into your room, he found you asleep anyway.

Sighing, Taeyong walked over and pulled you up as gently as possible, until you were snugly in his arms bridal style. Your hair fell over your face messily, lips set in a small, sleepy pout as your head rested against his chest.

He looked at you, before snapping out of it and shaking his head. He had always known you were pretty, ever since your sweet sixteen when you came down the stairs of your house in that pretty dress your mother had gotten you for the occasion.

And the thing was, he had never thought of you that way, you were his best friend, he had seen you cry and fall over and run into walls as a kid, but in that moment, he saw you as he would see anyone else.

Yes, he teased you about being the ugliest person alive, but those type of snarky comments would only follow him complimenting you, just to see the surprise and shock on your face, even if i was just for a moment, And then the teasing would follow when you would make a narcissistic comment.

But there were moments, and they were very brief, but they were there. They were when he didn't even have the courage to tell you how beautiful he thought you were. In those moments he would force himself to snap out of it, because it was dangerous.

He carried you to your bed, placing you carefully down on it and covering you with your blanket. Only halfway though, you hated being completely under it.

It was dangerous because you were his best friend, and Taeyong was careful. Very careful. Sure, the two of you had those moments when you playfully flirted with each other, but that was it.

He looked at you, really looked at you and let himself think. What if you weren't his best friend? What if those complications didn't exist? What if you were simply a girl and a boy who met in college and were friends. What if you were more?

Licking his lips, Taeyong leaned forward and kissed your forehead, before getting to his feet and walking to your desk to shut your laptop down for you. Dragging his index finger across the touchpad, the screen sprung back to life and he was met with an empty google document, with the title reading: What is your perception of Love?

What if you were more?

Quickly shutting your laptop down, Taeyong decided he liked the idea of that.