Chapter Text
Reo had been in his chambers for hours, surrounded by an array of colorful paints, brushes, and a large canvas that had been set up just for him. The sun poured through the window, casting a soft, golden light over the room.
"Nagi!" Reo called out suddenly, his voice laced with excitement. "Come here!"
Nagi, who had been finishing up some light training in the courtyard, sighed softly and wiped the sweat from his brow. He didn’t mind, though. Anything Reo asked was never truly an inconvenience, no matter how whimsical the request might be.
He pushed open the door, stepping inside to find Reo sitting in front of a canvas, already deep in concentration. His brows furrowed, a playful frown tugging at his lips, his eyes intent on the canvas.
Nagi stepped into the room, raising an eyebrow.
"I decided that I'm going to start painting and I need a model," Reo announced dramatically, standing up and brushing off his clothes before gesturing toward the chair by the easel. "You're perfect for the job. Sit here." His eyes were gleaming with excitement as he beckoned Nagi to come closer.
The knight merely sighed, but there was no hesitation in his steps. He walked over to the chair and lowered himself into it, his long, lean body stretching out effortlessly. Nagi grumbled half-heartedly, settling into a comfortable slouch.
Reo huffed playfully. "Don’t you dare start complaining. You’re going to make a beautiful model." His tone was light and teasing, and Nagi couldn’t help but stare at Reo's smile.
Nagi's gaze followed Reo as he moved around the room to set up, his movements smooth and fluid, almost like a dance. The idea of posing seemed silly, but if it meant Reo was happy, Nagi was content.
When Reo began to sketch out the beginning strokes of the portrait, he kept his eyes on the paper, focused. "Sit up straighter," Reo ordered with a light smile, though there was a hint of mild reprimand in his tone. "You look like you're about to fall asleep."
Nagi shifted lazily in his seat, "I feel like I'm already asleep."
The hint of a frown appeared on Reo's face, his brows furrowing slightly. "Come on, Nagi. A little effort, please."
Nagi slowly straightened his posture, but even with his body now more proper, the relaxed nature of the knight was ever-present. He leaned slightly to one side, hands loosely resting in his lap. He wasn’t going to make this hard for Reo, not when Reo wanted something so simple.
"I’m doing my best," Nagi said, voice low as if it were a complaint, but it really wasn't. Even as he pretended to grumble, he was trying, in his own quiet way. He wanted to be there for Reo—no matter what.
Reo made a mock-disappointed face but didn’t push any further. He dipped his brush in more paint and began his work, the sound of the bristles dragging lightly on the canvas filling the room.
Minutes passed in a peaceful silence, save for the occasional sound of the brush against the fabric of the canvas. Nagi’s head stayed slightly tilted as he watched Reo work, the prince’s eyes darting to him every few moments to study how Nagi’s pose translated on the canvas.
"Are you bored?" Reo asked suddenly, glancing up to see the faint, lazy smile playing on Nagi's lips.
Nagi shook his head, his expression softening slightly. He could never be bored with Reo at his side. Whatever Reo asked, whatever Reo wanted, it was never something to complain about.
Especially not when being near him was the one thing Nagi found he didn’t mind doing more than anything else.
Reo chuckled lightly and shook his own head, amused by Nagi’s lack of enthusiasm, but there was a hint of affection in his gaze. "If you’re going to complain, you could at least do it louder."
Another hour passed, and the portrait began to take form, each stroke of color adding depth and life to the canvas. Reo paused every so often to admire his work before continuing.
Finally, after what felt like ages, Reo set down his brush, a satisfied smile on his face. "Done," he said simply.
Nagi stood up, stretching out his limbs as he glanced at the finished portrait.
It was Nagi, of course, though the painting didn’t quite capture his usual indifference. It showed him, seated and calm—his tired eyes softened, a gentle expression on his face as he gazed quietly toward something distant, his posture relaxed but upright.
Reo stepped back and let out a small, approving hum. "It's lovely." His voice was softer than before.
Reo moved to set the portrait on a nearby table, still looking at it with a pleased expression. He couldn’t hide the soft flush on his cheeks, as he looked at the final product.
With a soft sigh, he slinked closer to the prince, "Do you need anything else?"
Reo looked up, startled at the sudden proximity, then smiled. "I think I’m done for the day."
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That evening, long after Reo had fallen asleep, Nagi quietly sneaked into the prince's room and procured a few supplies. A small bundle of paintbrushes, some vibrant paints, and a canvas were carefully stashed under his arm as he made his way back to his own chambers.
It wasn’t often that Nagi returned to his own chamber, but tonight, he had something important to do.
Setting the canvas on a stand, he placed the paints and brushes beside it. Nagi's gaze lingered on the blank surface before him, yet his mind was filled with an image so vivid he hardly needed to think. The memory of the lazy afternoon in Reo’s room felt impossibly clear—the way the warm sunlight had spilled into the room, its golden rays softening everything it touched, especially Reo.
The prince had been sitting behind the canvas, absorbed in his newfound hobby, with the golden glow of the setting sun casting an ethereal light on his face. His soft violet eyes had flicked up now and then to glance at Nagi as he worked, a small smile curving his lips as if satisfied by the knight’s mere presence. Nagi, in return, had watched quietly, saying nothing. There were words he could’ve said if he’d tried, words about how beautiful Reo looked, bathed in sunlight like a figure in a dream. But words never came easy to Nagi. Instead, he stayed still, observing the scene so closely it felt almost sacred.
And now, he picked up the brush. The first stroke was slow and deliberate. The second came easier. Soon, the memory began to take shape on the canvas—the soft, sunlit strands of Reo’s violet-tinted hair, his pale complexion glowing under the gentle warmth of the sun.
Nagi worked silently, losing himself in the process. Each stroke brought back pieces of that moment—the way Reo’s eyes crinkled slightly when he was focusing, the subtle curve of his lips when he smiled at his own progress, the tiny wrinkle between his brows when something didn’t quite go the way he wanted.
He captured how the rays of the sunset fell perfectly across Reo’s features, wrapping him in a warmth that seemed as though it came from the prince himself.
Hours passed, though Nagi barely noticed. He painted with care, each stroke infused with his affections. When he finally stepped back and set down the brush, the painting stared back at him—a perfect likeness of Reo from the afternoon. He had poured all his care into it, every detail lovingly preserved. Reo was there on the canvas, soft and serene, his essence alive in the light of the painted sunset.
Nagi tilted his head, staring at the finished piece. A faint sense of satisfaction rose in his chest, but it wasn’t enough. The Reo on the canvas was stunning, radiant in a way that would make anyone stop and look. But as much as he had tried, it still wasn’t quite… him.
His quiet eyes lingered on the painting, and for a moment, a soft sigh escaped him. It was good, but it wasn’t enough. How could any painting truly capture Reo—the way he lit up a room, the warmth of his presence, the sharpness of his mind tempered by a sweetness that disarmed anyone who knew him? Nagi’s art couldn’t reach the way Reo’s laughter felt like sunshine itself or the way his confidence had an endearing fragility hidden beneath it.
Still, as the rays of the rising sun wrapped around the room, Nagi allowed himself to look at his painting one last time. For all its flaws, it was filled with love—his love, quiet and unspoken but so deeply rooted it colored every stroke of the brush.
Carefully, he lifted the canvas and stored it away, tucking it into the corner of his chamber where only he would find it. The painting was for his eyes alone, a secret testament to his devotion. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to guard it so fiercely, but he knew he couldn’t bear for anyone else to see it—not yet.
With everything put in order, Nagi took a deep breath. The world was waking now, the sounds of the castle stirring to life faintly reaching his ears. Without a sound, he left his room and made his way through the quiet halls, the thought of Reo—still wrapped in his silken sheets—guiding his every step.
By the time he reached Reo’s chambers, the soft hues of dawn had deepened into a golden glow, and Nagi quietly opened the door, his gaze settling on the sleeping prince.