Fingertips running gently to a canvas, your art that has gone awful and destroyed. You cried while looking at it.

Your lovely tears dropped on the canvas one by one as a golden shine came out of the canvas, making the paiting come to life, just as how you imagined its appearance is supposed to be, and not some destroyed, scratched work

"Are you..the one who painted me?" before you knew the person you painted had talked..