You slide your arms around Kris’s waist from behind while he’s working on his first painting. He quirks a small smile and sets down his paint brush when he feels your warm breath against the sensitive skin of his nape. After trailing kisses up his neck, you capture his earlobe between your teeth to nibble on it teasingly. His entire ear falls off and plops onto the ground. Blood splatters onto the canvas. He is Wu Fan Gogh, and no one can stop him from making art.