Jimin can't sleep. The wind outside howled loudly, and the sound was absolutely irritating. Normally, he would have his headphones in as he slept to block out the noise. Unfortunately for him, they broke last week and he keeps forgetting to pick up new ones. So he continues to lie there in his bed, and stare up at the ceiling.

Jimin decided to get up and make himself a cup of tea. He shuffles out of his bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. He rubs his eyes tiredly.

He grabs a cup from the cupboard and places it under the Kurig machine. He set the pod in the slot and turns on the machine. Jimin then leans against the counter and sighs.

Several minuted later, he's curled up in his favourite window seat, his tae in his hands, warming them up. He rests his head against the cool glass and yawns. It was quarter after four and the wind hadn't let up. School swirled all around outside. Jimin figured he wouldn't have class today.

He takes a long sip of his tea and goes back to staring out the window. He smiles. The mint haired boy is sitting in his living room painting.

Jimin likes to imagine what the boy is painting. Does he like nature? Or is he an abstract artist? Does he like to pain realistically or does he prefer fantasy? Are his paintings reflections of happiness, sadness or anger? Jimin would live to see one of his painting one day.

Little does he know that most of them are of him.