Seunghyeon pushed the studio door open with his back, stopping in the doorframe mid-yawn. “Uh, what’s that?”

Kwangsun pulled the hat off his face and squinted at him, still laying down. “What? This?” he asked, waving his hat. “It’s new. I got it over the weekend.”

“Not that, you idiot,” Seunghyeon said and marched over, kicking the blue couch Kwangsun was laying on. “This. What is this?”

“Uh, a couch.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Seunghyeon scoffed. “I mean, where did you get it?”

Kwangsun sat up, lounging back against the plush cushions. “It was Insik’s. Since he’s moving in with his girlfriend, he decided to get rid of the couch. I helped him move it here yesterday.”

Seunghyeon nodded. Insik was another studio mate. And while it did look comfortable, he narrowed his eyes. “Won’t we get into trouble for bringing in furniture?”

“Only if we get caught.” Kwangsun chuckled and patted the space beside him, “But it’s so worth it. It even folds out into a bed.”

Seunghyeon pursed his lips. A sofa-bed would be useful for all-nighters. Plus, having something with a backrest would do wonders for his posture.

“Fine,” he said before sitting on the other side of the couch. Firm but still manageable. “But if we get into trouble, I’m throwing you under the bus.”

“Just me?” Kwangsun asked. “But it’s Insik’s couch.”

“I don’t have a problem with him.”

“And you have a problem with me?” Kwangsun gasped, clutching his chest. “You’re so cruel.”

Seunghyeon raised his eyebrow and rolled his eyes. Shifting around, he rested his head back and sighed, his body sinking into the creases. Why didn’t the university provide couches in the studios? This was great.

“You know,” Kwangsun piped up, stretching his arm across the backrest. “Insik used to bang his girlfriend in that spot.”

Seunghyeon’s eyes snapped open and he recoiled, jumping up. “Ew! Why didn’t you say anything!” Seunghyeon grimaced, scanning the stainless corner.

That’s why there weren’t any couches.

With a full-bodied laugh, Kwangsun shook his head. “I’m kidding. Relax,” he said and shrugged. “Actually, I don’t know. But he promised it’s clean.”

Seunghyeon scowled. “I doubt that. You better get rid of this couch or I’m reporting you,” he said and spun on his heels, marching to the door.

“Wait, no! Don’t be like that, kitten,” Kwangsun whined, lunging over and grabbing Seunghyeon’s wrist.

Seunghyeon jerked his hand free. “It’s gross! I don’t want that in here,” he snapped, glaring at him.

Kwangsun jutted out his bottom lip. “Come on. We can get a cover or something. But isn’t having a couch totally worth it?”

Seunghyeon flicked over to the couch and back at him. He didn’t know why Kwangsun was attempting a puppy-dog face and sagging shoulders. His glassy eyes and wrinkled eyebrows weren’t the cause of the twang in Seunghyeon’s chest. He just… realized the advantage of having a couch.

“Fine,” Seunghyeon sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I won’t say anything.”

Kwangsun beamed. “Awesome,” he said, patting Seunghyeon’s shoulder. “I knew you were cool.”

Seunghyeon tsked and averted his eyes. “I’ve always been cool.”

There was a knock on the door and Professor Lim walked in. “Good morning,” she said. “Just the two I wanted to see.”

“Good morning, Professor,” Seunghyeon and Kwangsun said. “What did you want to talk to us about?” Seunghyeon added.

Professor Lim didn’t say anything right away, Seunghyeon followed her line of vision to Kwangsun’s hand, which was still on his shoulder. Seunghyeon shook it off. “Oi.”

“Hm? Oh!” Kwangsun yanked his hand back. “My bad,” he muttered and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Seunghyeon crossed his arms and side-eyed him.

“So, professor—” Kwangsun cleared his throat, “You were saying?”

“Ah right.” Professor Lim smiled. “I wanted to talk to you two about your proposals.”

Seunghyeon stiffened.

“I think they’re both excellent.”

Seunghyeon sighed. Finally. “Thank you, prof—”

“Expanding your artistic styles is why you’re here in the first place,” Professor Lim said. “And since you both are two ends of the same spectrum, working together is brilliant.”

Seunghyeon gaped. Excuse me? Who said they were working together?

“Um, profe—”

“You know,” she said, cutting him off once more. “Both of you putting aside your egos and working together to create something even more outstanding is what art is about. I always say art is collaboration. Not a competition.” She placed her hands on her chest, her eyes twinkling. “I am so proud of you two.”

Seunghyeon pressed his lips into a tight line. He can’t say anything now. He glanced over at Kwangsun, who looked at him with equal shock. Seunghyeon widened his eyes. Say something.

Kwangsun sucked in his breath and turned back to her, plastering on a smile. “Yup. It was totally our plan.”

Not that!

Professor Lim chuckled. “I’m happy to hear that. Now, I just want to clarify, there are no restrictions on creating a paired piece. But they will be graded separately. And both paintings should still reflect your individuality.”

Kwangsun nodded. “Understood.”

Seunghyeon glared at him, burning a hole into the side of his head. Where did she get the idea that they were doing a set! And why was Kwangsun agreeing with her?

“Perfect! Well, that’s all I wanted to say. If you need me, you know where to find me,” she said. “Goodbye, you two. I’m looking forward to your work.”

Seunghyeon didn’t wait for the door to close completely before cornering Kwangsun, stomping his foot. “What the hell? Why didn’t you correct her?”

“Me?” Kwangsun waved his hand. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because.” Seunghyeon huffed and crossed his arms tighter, looking away. “How can I say anything after that,” he muttered.

“Exactly.” Kwangsun sighed and dragged his hands over his face. “Oh well,” he said, straightening up and shrugging. “I guess we gotta think of something together.”

Seunghyeon groaned and turned away. He walked over to the other side of the studio and sat in front of his empty canvas. He slumped forward, cradling his face in his hands. His final year was ruined. He might as well drop out and redo the year next March.

Kwangsun walked over and pulled up a stool in front of him. “Hey, don’t be like that,” he said with surprising softness.

Peeking up, Seunghyeon eyed his expression. Not so puppy-like, but more hurt. Seunghyeon’s chest tightened. Maybe he was being too rude.

“You’re right,” he sighed. “There’s nothing we can do now. Besides, I don’t have a real idea yet, anyway.”

“Same. And knowing us, we’ll come up with something really good,” Kwangsun said, playfully punching Seunghyeon’s shoulder.

Seunghyeon cracked a smile. He had to admit, as the top two in the course, they had a real chance of making something incredible. “So, what did you say in your proposal?” he asked, pulling out his notebook.

“I said I was going to explore something with a more sensual theme with more complex emotions,” Kwangsun said, stroking his chin. “I did say in a historical setting ‘cause I thought that’d be cool.”

Pursing his lips, Seunghyeon jotted those down. “I said I was going to paint a happier portrait.”

“So, the exact opposite.”

“Yup,” Seunghyeon sighed and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a groan until his chest sagged.

This was going to be harder than they thought.