Cup's

Three

"She seems.. sad."

Paul looked down and licked his lips before muttering, "No, you don't..

"See her." voice laced in uncertainty.

His answer baffled Mr. Edwin Chu, to which made the older man ask, "See? See what?"

"Who she is - could be.." Paul trailed off before sounding so sure of saying,

"Her."

Paul Munsky had spoken as if he had seen Ellie Chu.

Unbridled tears rolled down my cheeks as unsuppressed sobs escaped my lips, even the relentless creature that wrecks havoc within its confinement in my chest, ceased its rampage and wept.

That scene of forty seconds replayed for an unhindered several times. I found myself lost in the glow of the afternoon that shone through mustard curtains of the Chu Residence's kitchen, and the words that dripped from Paul's mouth, both like honey.

But a large hand grasped my shoulder and shook me awake from my reverie. A low grumble emitted from behind me, rattling like thunder after lightning, like the mistaken press of a low pitched piano key.

I turned to the tall Mug with lips pursed, eyebrows raised in exasperation, eyes brimming with unshed tears and cheeks cherry red from bawling. He mirrored my annoyance, but with furrowed brows, a crinkled nose and hooded eyes with an ominous glint.

"It's the best part!" His brown eyes bore onto mine, and from his lips escaped a sigh.

"He confessed to seeing ellie, to her father, Mug." I explained.

"Seeing ellie? What exactly did Paul see?"

"Her!" I exclaimed.

His eyebrows knit closer, a portrait of utter confusion etched on his canvas of a pretty face.

"To look is to discern a painting, a good painting,

"And to see is to behold its five boldest strokes."

A dimple appeared on his cheek, "I see." had been his only response, to which I rolled my eyes.

Raising a brow, "See what?" I queried in jest, tugging on a small smile to plaster on my lips.

"You, Cup.

"I see you."