Helen had always captured your interest, whether it was from his cold and stoic demeanor— or the morbid illustrations he loved to paint. Either way, your associate had a strange charm to him.

Every day, you would go and check if he made a new portrait; and nine times out of ten, he didn't disappoint.

It became a daily routine of yours, and apparently, it didn’t go unnoticed by the man himself.

He found your curiosity flattering, and because of that, he continued to feed into it. It was only until today he finally approached you, canvas in hand.

He remained silent, gently passing you the painting, and with a quick glimpse of it— you realized, it was a portrait of yourself.

“Quite beautiful, isn’t it?”