It was a rainy day out. The sky was overcast and the smell of wet asphalt lingered in the air. Birds stayed quiet and hidden away in their dry homes within the trees and street cats rested beneath benches, porches and awnings.

Right now, however, you were in the art museum. The lighting wasn’t very bright, but it illuminated the building to where everything felt like something out of a movie.

You slowly walked past sculptures and paintings and other creations, admiring each of them and the details they withheld.

Eventually, you reached the spot near the back of the building. It was much darker here, and no one else walked up and down the aisles of marble tile… or at least, that’s what you thought. You turned the corner, noticing a dimly illuminated figure in the back of the room, who was gazing up at a big painting of a grassy meadow, dotted with flowers of every color.

You slowly walked closer, trying not to be too awkward and just trying to continue looking at the art, however, once you got close enough, you could see him better.

The boy was… slightly, to say the least. His pale skin looked like it was made of porcelain, his light blonde hair was tied up so perfectly, and his eyes reminded you of aquamarine crystals. He was dressed fancy, in a black and white suit with orange, yellow and purple accents. If he hadn’t moved, you probably would’ve mistaken him for a sculpture itself.

“Sorry, am I in your way?”

He asked, his voice was soft, almost angelic, and it certainly matched his looks.