the visions of tragic feelings.

Music box

A man named Luca Balsa, was getting pushed around, here and there while holding a small music box he had invented.

Getting humiliated all because of being blind, was horrible for a man so determined like him, he was a kind man, yet so stubborn.
He was told by many, even by his own mother to never go out without a damn walking stick, yeah, he was mostly disagreeing with carrying a stick around the place just to check the area.

But, now?

Right after getting away, here he was in the presence of something.. Angelic?

Hearing a small hum flowing within the area. ’So.. Angelic..'
Luca thought, then accidentally touched the easel of a canvas.

“Ah, who are you to be interrupting my sessio—“

A soft toned voice spoke, before cutting itself off when the familiar man was seen, Luca Balsa.

“Ed?..“

Luca muttered, looking up at the right direction where the god was facing, “my gosh, I expected you to be resting..“
Yeah, Edgar was one of the people who spoke about him having to stay home.

“Let me be, will ya?“

The mortal muttered, with a small scoff leaving his mouth as he quickly just brought the music box to the ground, turning a handle to make Edgar listen to a tune.

The little tiny objects that moved around, like a factory within the box. Just to play the soft tune, was quite..

Nice.

The immortal got distracted by the sounds of it, made a hum out of amusement as he listened to the music box.
“Quite soft, I must say..“

Said Edgar, gently running his hand on the grass.

“..So.. You like it?“

Luca asked, happily knowing Edgar was the only one in the damn universe that liked his inventions, or at least didn't say, that they weren't useful.

“I suppose.. It isn't as bad as your usual trinkets look..“

Never mind.

Luca made a small sigh, that instantly said 'I'm too used to this' type of sigh.

Both were quite close, how they met was also a thought to wonder about.
But, all Luca knew, that Edgar was somebody who understood him.

And all Edgar knew, was that Luca was somebody who wasn't treated properly by other mortals.

Being in such time of year and season, Edgar was the type of God of beauty, resembling a perfect shape of his being, no asymmetry whatsoever.

Being praised by others was the usual thing, but Luca?
Oh, how Luca Balsa got him all up in the moon.

“Are you paintin' still?“

Luca asked, gently tapping the wooden easel with his fingertip.

“Mhm,“ he mumbled back before just letting out a sigh.
“Though, I got distracted from you.. Damn music box..“

He muttered, faking annoyance.

Luca made a small pout, “well, that's better than painting.“
He spoke back, before getting a small hit on his shoulder.
“Ow—“

He silently hissed.