𝐎𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀 ➤ sanzu haruchiyo.

Three.

03. VISITOR

——

"Why do you think she always drinks milk?"

Y/n craned her head towards the two employees whispering about on the corner. She held her deadpan expression as she approached the two.

"They say it can help me fall asleep," she croaked, gaining their attention.

"Oh my! Good morning, Ma'am."

With an empty carton of milk in her hand, Y/n examined the two ladies in front of her. One of them was an assistant of Ms. Yamaka in arranging the arts and the other was just a janitor, mopping the floor.

"If you have energy to gossip about nonsensical things, you should move your hands and be productive."

"I'm so sorry!"

She rolled her eyes while shaking her head in disbelief, but before she walked away, she looked back.

"And there's nothing good in the morning. Threw this away." The empty carton of milk was pushed against the chest of the female janitor before Y/n completely showed her back and walked towards her office.

With a thump, the door closed behind her. She found herself sitting on her desk with the portrait in front of her. The piece was yet to be finished but it was a lot more alive and enticing than any other of her painting.

Her fingers lingered on the eyes of the oil canvas as if memorizing all the little details she had put in his gleaming eyes.

If not for that pair of bluish pools, the painting would be dull like any of her other pieces, but this... this was alive.

"Ma'am!"

"What?" She was annoyed when Ms. Yamaka suddenly burst at her door without knocking.

The glare y/n was giving made the other's knees quiver in fear, "Sorry to disturb you b-but... can i have the lists of the guests?"

Y/n stopped for a moment before she retracted her gaze and looked back at Sanzu's image.

"I'll send it to you through the mail," she replied calmly, "So make sure the next time you come in here, you knock."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm so sorry for intruding."

"Yeah, whatever. Close the door."

As soon as the other entity was out of her sight, her lips plastered a precious smile, adoring the render of the stranger's face.

Though after her dream earlier this morning, she doesn't consider the man a 'stranger'-for he is Sanzu Haruchiyo.

"Haru..." she whispered the sweet name of the young man.

The day ended, and that's when Sanzu's left eye was fully painted, now decorated with the reflection of the setting sun and shadowing his light long lashes.

Y/n felt satiated as she stared at the canvas, her hand covered in blue and orange paint, her table was a mess but she paid no mind.

Before she finally decided to leave, she fixed her office and sent an email to Ms. Yamaka, and that's when she saw what time it was already.