Chapter II

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Dedicated to katrocks247 because she inspired me to write this baby. Her own stories are incredible as well!

"Well, whoever he is. He sure got some killer eyes. You're totally enchanted by him." - Anastasia Waters

Chapter II

My brush dipped into the paint and I focused on the painting I was working on, tongue poked out in concentration.

Ever since encountering the mysterious man six days ago, I had repeatedly painted his eyes. I couldn't seem to get them out of my mind. So far, painting had always worked with me to clear my mind, but this case was apparently an exception. I just couldn't forget him.

And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get the eyes right. Much to my irritation.

Chewing on my lip, I looked at the painting, debating on what's wrong with it.

I have painted eyes before but never had any troubles with those. But the eyes of this guy just held too much emotion. Remembering the look he held in his eyes and what he must have gone through made me feel... sad somehow.

Picking up my canvas, I walked over to the wall and put it down next to the other paintings I had made the last four days, in between work of course.

Every painting was of his eyes. I'm sure there must be seven of them in my studio alone. The sketchbook that I kept in my room contained even more sketches.

Everywhere I looked, his eyes looked right back at me, unnerving me and making a shudder go down my spine. There was just something I couldn't put my finger on...

The door to my painting studio slammed open and I jumped up in shock. "I knew I could find you here!" A female voice called.

I turned around and watched my best friend, Anastasia, strut into the room. Taking the winter cold with her. Like always, her red hair whirled around her face like furious flames. Her waggling made me think of a penguin, which did not come as a surprise seeing how many layers of clothes she wore to protect her against the cold.

She always has been sensitive to the cold.

"You need to do something about that cat of yours!" She whined. "He scratched me again!" She removed some of her coats and jackets in a flash and showed me her arms, and just like she said, they were under the scratch marks undoubtedly done by my cat.

"You tried to pet him?" I asked her in amusement, wiping my hands off against my shirt. It was an old shirt I always painted in, so I did not care if it got under the paint or not.

Her green eyes grew large. "He looks so soft..."

"Ghost is very particular about who he likes. And who gets to touch him and who not. You seem to be someone he does not like," I explained to my friend. "If you don't want him to scratch you, you should stop trying to pet him."

A sign left her lips. She muttered something under her breath, probably about how she will touch Ghost one day without getting scratched. In the meantime, I walked over to the paint I had used and put them away in a box where I kept my collection.

"Whose eyes are those?" I heard Ana ask. I looked up and saw her kneeled in front of the paintings I made of the guy's eyes. She watched them with interest and a certain curiosity.

"I don't know. I walked into him one day on my way to work," I replied.

Ana whistled. "Well, whoever he is. He sure got some killer eyes. You're totally enchanted by him."

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