jeongin was frustrated. spending days in his basement trying to make the perfect sketch of what your face looked like, but he always got something wrong. unfinished sketches and countless crumpled papers around him as he sat at his desk, his head in his hands, desperately trying to remember what you looked like.

he could see your face sometimes, but it was too fast. trying to get closer to you but you were always out of reach. he was going crazy.

with a scream, jeongin threw his sketchbook against the wall, tears of sadness and frustration rolling down his cheeks. his shaking hands covering his face.

“please, where are you… come out, i know you are here..” he sobbed.