Relationship has formed-almost

Chapter 1

     It was in the evening of the tenth of May, year 2022. The night was young and the clouds was clear. Many people had gathered in the La Galerie du Passe to witness the unveiling of a unique painting. This painting belonged to the granddaughter of the museum's owner, Suzainne, an aspiring painter who would soon be the museum's owner.

     Suzainne stepped into the museum, clad in a perfectly fitting dress that accentuated her body, and red heels that matched her crimson lips. Her hair was neatly secured in a bun, with not a single strand out of place. She entered the museum looking ideal, but one thing marred the perfection – an old paper clutched tightly in her left hand.

     Initially, she walked with appeal, concealing her desire to run towards the attic. However, as she was midway through walking, the urge to reach the attic surged within her. The elegance disguise she had maintained disappeared like a dissipating cloud of smoke. Thus, she began running toward the attic, resembling a person being chased by a wild animal. The paper in her hands appeared crumpled, indicating that she had read it. And it seemed to be the reason why she was hastily making her way toward the attic.

     One of the attendants spoke to her, saying, "Ms. Suzainne, you're here. A lot of people have been waiting for you." However, Suzainne didn't even spare him a glance, continuing to run and bump into people.

     While running in the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of a painting hanging in the dark part of the museum—a portrait of a handsome man that seemed out of place. Nevertheless, she didn't pay it any attention and continued running towards the attic.

     The stomping of her heels echoed through a narrow path toward the attic. As she reached the door to the attic, she slowly grasped its handle, feeling both afraid and excited about what awaited her behind it.

     I turn my eyes toward the door, as footsteps reach my ears, contemplating whether she has arrived. And behold, my intuition is proven to be true, for Eistred graced me with her presence.

     Embellished in a splendid white dress that blows gracefully with each step she takes. Not a strand of her hair falters even with the gentle caress of the wind. Her beauty carrying an elegant glow, a rare grace she is. And I dare proclaim her features to be the most unique I have beheld in all my days. Her visage is truly captivating, and gazing upon her summon not a hint of dissatisfaction.

     Truly, Eistred is on par to excellence, beautiful and benevolent she is, and a skilled artist too. Yet, a challenge burdens her; she bears the inability to hear. Hence, for us to converse, we transcribe our words upon a sheet of paper.

     Her gaze wandered within the room until it landed on me. A smile graced her countenance, for she must have seen that I was holding a piece of paper and a pen, she discerned that I was writing her a message.

     "Eistred you have arrived. I must express that your appearance is exceptionally splendid this day." I inscribe upon a piece of sheet.

     She took hold of the paper and absorbed its contents. A gleam of joy appeared in her countenance. Procuring a pen, she commenced to scribble her reply.

     "Sefatias, stop it. You are making me blush. You always compliment everything as if perfection is written on my face. But I am grateful for that. You always show me what it's like to be genuinely happy." She scribbles on the paper.

     "Eistred, you are most welcome. I, too, rejoice in bringing happiness unto you. Yet, I beg you, enlighten me, what truly is a blush? What transpires when you do experience it?"

     When I passed the paper to her, she erupted in hearty laughter and tendered her apologies. While, I stood before her, utterly confused.

     "I'm sorry, I forgot you don't understand today's slang. Blush is like a reaction when someone compliments you. It's the same with saying, 'You're making all the butterflies in my stomach go wild.' I hope you understand it by now. By the way, what should we paint today? I am eager to know your ideas."

     I read her writing, and I must declare, the blush is a sensation that devours me whenever I find myself in the company of Eistred.

     "Today, we would not engage in painting, for I shall undertake that task alone. You, however, are to be my subject. Thus, I plead you, my lady, to recline here and remain tranquil. I vow to craft perfection from your likeness." I replied.

     I garnished the vacant canvas with the strokes of my brush, while stealing glances at her occasionally. Upon completing my painting, I presented the masterpiece to her. She stood in awe for a moment, tears streaming from her eyes. Not to boast, but all my paintings are truly exquisite. Prior today, numerous individuals sought to be subjects for my art.

     Eistred stood before me, acquiring a pen, and scribble what she has been feeling.

     My god, Sefatias. You are not the only person to have painted me. Yet, your illustration has put me to tears. It is just so handsomely done. No words can explain how gorgeous it is. Many people might be jealous of me if I display it in front of them.

     I am glad that you had found delight in my artwork, Eistred. In truth, it is yours; a gift from me to you. If you desire to reveal it to the world, and let them bear witness to your exquisite beauty, do it.

     We converse for a while until drowsiness succumb her, for the night has already enveloped us. Hence, she decided to depart to her abode. I bid her goodbye as I observed her withdraw out of the door.