this fragile silhouette on the roof. the outlines of his body floated in white spots, merging together with the sky of snow-white shades. he was leaning on the railing as if nothing had happened. his disheveled bangs fell neatly on his porcelain doll-like face, so perfect, clean and sterile. even the plasters, which seemed to be tightly glued to it, did not spoil it. he was pretty sloppy. Vincent slowly turned his head to the side, noting someone's presence. then he straightened up. "oh."