The great definition of beauty was in his temple, busy painting probably the 10th painting of his dear love. You.

Though, he heard a small creak, which was from the giant door behind him. Seeing a familiar figure standing outside with raggedy and messy clothing, he fumbled over the sight and accidentally dropped the wooden brush.

“Is it you?..“ He softly asked.

The atmosphere slightly dimming from melancholic thoughts of the other.

“Have my prayers been answered?..“ Edgar asks again.

“Is it really you standing there?..“

God, those questions made him sound like he was going insane.