Trust issues. If Edgar had to describe his life in two words : trust issues. From a wealthy family he never cared about taking the lead of this one. All that mattered was art. His dear mother died, art was his grief. His adored little sister died of negligence from his dad ? He painted her. When he realised all the people around him were hypocrisy and lies he continued painting. The only person left was his art tutor... Who turned to be the worst of all the liars. ''i made a weird dream. Mr.Sarai was holding my hands.. he said he would teach me about real art."

Then everything went so fast. He received a letter from the Oletus manor. He left the Valden's manor. Leaving behind him a bitter goodbye letter to his dad and the immobile body of Mr.sarai...

Edgar never trusted again. He learnt very early people could lie only for a little benefit. The world was colour. Anger was red, sadness was blue. Same for the people. He all saw them as colour. Most of them were green. Disgust. Purple, hypocrisy. Some were just red. Edgar had a particular anger toward a few... Like his dad. His dad had always been red. A garish one. But there was someone... Her. Oh her. A warm orange. Like the sunset. Sweet and soft. Just her presence could warm your heart. The colour of kindness. The colour of hope, a colour you wanted to trust. That girl in the manor. He trusted her. She was the only one. He couldn't understand why she was that kind of soft orange but he loved it. He was also scared.

He was holding his brush tightly. Confused, ashamed, vulnerable too much colour were running in his head. He couldn't trust someone.. that wasn't possible.. that wasn't like him.

"Maybe I.. lost my minds" He murmured, lost in his memory. "No one ever noticed.." "No one noticed..?" She repeated with sadness. She knew part of his story. She took a step closer. "Edgar.." He was afraid. Afraid of this new colour. Afraid of his liking for the sweet orange. "No one tried.. to read my eyes. No one but you.." Was it lies again? "Wish it was true." He turned around. It was time to leave. Before he would get addicted to the warm colour. "Maybe I- it's not right." It's wasn't right to trust someone. Those people used to be soft too, until he realised they were, in fact, all purple inside. She grabbed his wrist. "Come on, don't leave me, it can't be, that easy babe. If you believe me.." The world was always ugly, muddy colours but this one was so warm and sweet, her hand was soft... He didn't want to stay.. he didn't want to leave either. He turned around. "Hold me, console me, and then I'll leave without a trace.."