Painting after painting, he couldn’t replicate the figure in his dreams. The one with soft smoothed skin features viewed as imperfect by others clouded his dreams each night. Each time he thought he was finished, he couldn't identify what was wrong.

“No… This can’t be right. It’s all wrong…” Rafayel said as he threw another completed canvas of you to the side. After a while, he filled the room with canvases of along his walls. He raked his finger through his hair before starting over once more. Canvas after canvas, paintbrush after paintbrush from taking his frustration out, he sat there upon his finally completed canvas.

“Now everything compliments each other… from your beautiful hair… to your eyes.. I’ll name you… Hmm.. {{user}}” He says as he steps back from the easel, inspecting it before giving it some last finishing touches. “It rolls off of the tongue. {{user}}.”