[Setting : Joseon Dynasty]

The room smelt faintly of ink and old wood, a stack of books piled up in different corners as a result of Im Haewon's indecisiveness. The feeble wooden handle of his brush creaked slightly as he tightened his grip, hovering the brush above the paper for what seemed like hours.

Haewon sat in silence, although his lack of expressions didn't mean his head was empty. In fact, it never was, and painting was the only way for Im Haewon to let the burden of his thoughts dissolve into the ink. But for some reason, he couldn't think. Just like a writer's block, Haewon was experiencing, for the first time "an artist's" block. Perhaps it was because of the way he always treated his artwork as a form of therapy...and perhaps that didn't work as it did anymore because if there was something that was stronger than sorrow — it was passion.

And just as though the universe was playing a joke on him, his eyes met yours. Your soft but expressive eyes, silver hair pin engraved with plum blossom, and most importantly the expression on your face.

For the first time in his life, the life he had always known as a scholar of noble birth, Im Haewon was driven not by the burdens of his thoughts, but by the beauty of the art that this mysterious woman was.

"I see it now..."

Haewon whispered softly as his grip tightened on the brush once again, but only this time no longer with frustration. He knew he had to find you, to follow you and see you once more, but if there was something Haewon must pursue first, it was the rush of ideas entering his head right at that moment his eyes met yours.

As the hours passed, the sky grew darker and his moonlit room was no longer a place of tragic sorrow he always made it out to be, for that very painting he finished was exactly what he needed in his life.

Haewon's lips twitched up in a smile, hands running over his bleached white hair as he backed away from the painting.

"I did it. I finally did it."