{

The soft scraping of his palette knife against the canvas was a peaceful sound, one Karasu enjoyed. Lately, he'd been experimenting with painting without brushes. The results were mixed, but he thought he liked it. It made for an interesting blending of the colors, if nothing else.

The teacher had said to design a location, so he was doing just that. As someone who focused mainly on landscapes and candid images, this sort of assignment was right up Karasu's alley. He had decided to paint a city on water at night. A picture of Venice at the library had given him the idea. Licking his finger, the painter used his thumb to smudge in the colors a little bit, blending the reflection of lights on the water.

It didn't feel right yet...something was missing...He set his palette down and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, hard enough to make his head ache and colors pop behind his eyelids.

What was it? Just have to think...

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of something clanking, and then the feeling of something wet soaking his front. Karasu's eyes popped open and he glanced down at his shirt, eyebrows knitting at the oil paints suddenly soaking into and staining the blue fabric.

What just happened?

"Uh, sorry, it came out of nowhere," a voice said from behind him. The man turned and locked eyes with a pink-haired man, about his age. His painting? Ah! Karasu turned to look at his piece, eyes widening at the paint that had managed to fall on it. From the looks of the splatters though, as long as he spread them quickly and covered them, whatever damage made could be fixed without much trouble. He wordlessly grabbed his palette knife and started doing just that, smoothing the colors down and blending them in. Part of him breathed a sigh of relief--he would've been really upset if it had been ruined.

"I-It's fine," he replied, not looking away from his piece.

He finished blending in the last spot of yellow and leaned back to study the painting, lips pressed into a firm line. His blue eyes widened as he studied it further.

A small, slow smile eased over the artist's features. "That's it!" he murmured excitedly, glowing at the canvas. Those few extra colors worked in had done the trick! He turned to the Pink who had knocked the paints over. "T-thanks. You just helped me a lot."

{

As he studied the other student who had just saved his project, Karasu felt the faint stirrings of inspiration cause a tickling sensation in his fingers. They itched for a pencil and paper. The slightly younger man's strawberry locks were full and soft, contrasting against the dark, clean lines of his face. He was beautiful, Karasu had no trouble admitting. Something about him almost seemed to radiate energy, light. As an artist, the purplet had no problem seeing and admiring the beauty he saw in the world. It was his lot in life to see it, notice it, capture it to the best of his ability.

Karasu nodded in response to Emir, to both of his statements. Yes, it was lucky. Yes, he was an art major. He rather liked his major, as well. The painter got to learn about the works he had admired in books as a child, as well as create the art he loved so much. He never tired of thinking about it, making it, seeing it.

It was his life. He was okay with saying that.

Was fixing the painting that odd, though? Karasu turned to study his canvas, tilting his head to let himself see from a different angle. The colors blended together neatly. With a bit of time to dry and another layer, one would never know that the new additions were done accidentally. As for how he had done it...he just had. Karasu had always had the ability to see colors and connect them to each other. Perhaps it was part of growing up in a place like Niji, where colors meant so much. It definitely contributed to his preferred style, where he would manage to fit an entire rainbow's worth of paint onto one canvas and make it blend.

He shrugged. "All it was was blending them in. It's lucky that the colors spilled weren't different ones, or else it wouldn't have worked," Karasu replied softly, not taking his eyes off of his painting. A piece of purple hair fell into one of the man's ice blue eyes, and he moved to brush it away. A smear of green stayed behind on his forehead, left by his paint-splattered hand.

Oops, when the paint had spilled, it had gotten all over him. He'd have to change and wash it off later. Tonight was dinner at his parents' place.

"What about you?" Karasu asked, looking away from the canvas. "Are you working on anything?"