Thrid person's pov.
Everything around him was utterly beautifully painted.
The colours were magnificent as they varied from velvet red, to golden, to a blue violet colour.
The paintings hanging on the walls of the enormous halls stunned the young man who didn't know where he would turn his head.
There was a horrific detailed painting of a girl painted in red. So red that it felt like a painting made from blood as she gazed into the people passing by with their heads down.
Not daring to look at the girl in the painting, who had been sitting on the floor, her eyes begging for help.
Another painting was a large vase filled with flowers that varied in colours as the scenery of the sun filled the background, giving the people the feeling of warmth within them.
But the young guy was standing, and gazing at the unloved little girl in the painting who none dared to gaze into.
His arms were crossed, his fist was clenched but he wasn't angry. Only anxious of the painting but he wasn't afraid of it.
"Nice outfit. Don't let the witch bitch see you." His older twin brother passed by him with a grin on his face.
Both of them didn't like the artist of the paintings since she was a bitch and the guy didn't think his outfit was that bad.
He wore a grey sweater shirt with black pants along with matching dark sneakers. His dark hair was slightly disheveled as his dark eyes examined the painting before him.
He wasn't suited to going for an exhibition but he couldn't care less. Suits and formal attire exhausted the younger guy in his twenties.
The guy simply couldn't care about what he wore or what other people thought because life was to short to waste on other people's opinion's on yourself.
The young guy was the only one standing, staring straight at the girl who seemed lifeless and unloved. The painting doesn't terrify the guy nor the little girl's gaze because he had been through the same stuff the little girl had been.
Both unloved, unwanted and abused.
At least in his old life or rather past life where his younger days were grim and cold but now his days turned light and warm.
That's the reason why he was standing in one place. Yearning to tell that little girl everything will be alright in the end but it might hurt during the process. Exactly like it did with him.
The young man who admired the painting was named Raphael which was ironic because his used to be best friend and childhood crush was named by the same name.
He had been Liam Castillo and now he's Raphael Everett as he has a brother called Michael Everett.
His mother named the twin boys after the two archangels, Michael and Raphael. She wasn't a religious woman but she thought the names fitted her two sons.
Raphael or rather Liam couldn't believe this was a mere coincidence being named after his best friend of his past life, ever since he regained his memories when he was only twelve years old.
He went through a hell of a mental growth spurt because of all the memories and all the questions of how it was possible to be reborn.
His mother even grew concerned for her son and got him help but the younger guy made some excuse because he was aware it wasn't an illusion since his husband's voice was still vivid in his mind along with the memories of his friends.
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MAFIA'S DIRTY SECRET (MXM)
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