The man stood alone in the dimly lit room, his red eyes fixed on the painting—one that seemed to have its own source of light. It depicted a woman with long, wavy brown hair and deep brown-orange eyes, a shade close to honey. But rather than honey, the name inscribed in the corner of the painting described her best.
Caramel.
Her eyes, the color of caramel.
She was gazing up at the dark sky, dressed in a short white gown, her hair caught elegantly in the wind. Her expression was emotionless— no one could tell what she was thinking, yet somehow, he could sense the hope within those eyes.
The sound of slow footsteps approaching made him shift his gaze. He offered a faint smile as the other man glanced at the painting for a moment before speaking.
"Do you want some coffee?"
"No need." He declined, rubbing his chin. "The woman in your painting is beautiful. Did you know her personally?"
