He wandered around the silent halls, his eyes trained on each painting. Stopping for a moment to greet his known investors or to look at some of the art that catches his eyes.
His steps were measured and he walked silently across the hallways. Until his eyes landed on one art. It was a framed portrait, that was in the middle of the wide wall. It attracted him in a way like a moth was attracted to fire. There was a hidden message of longingness in it clearly written in it.
As if it was drawn to be meant for him.
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(Credit to Evelyn Hamilton. Longing for Yesterday)
His brows furrowed as he looked at the painting. It was as if it was speaking to him silently. Telling him to understand the meaning behind it. Confusion drown in him as he caught the next painting beside it.
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(Credit to Anna Razumovskaya [Анна Разумовская]. Fantasy Art)
The more he looked at it, the more confused he got. There was this voice in the back of his head saying to him that, what he was seeing was real. This moment brought him enough familiarity. A day he would never forget. But his conscience didn't want him to believe this.
His eyes glazed for a moment and he turned to leave. The dull pain was almost suffocating him. He turned back and walked away.
"Leaving so soon?"
He stopped for a moment, his eyes closing as he prayed for this to be real. But at the same moment, he didn't want it to be.
