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Summary
“This is a bad idea. A really bad idea,” Aether murmured to himself as he sneak his way inside. He distantly wondered what would happen if he got caught, by any chance. Diluc Ragnvindr wouldn't call the police on him, right? It was not like Aether stole the painting or anything, he just wanted to see it again.
There.
It didn't get any less breathtaking since the first time Aether had seen it. In the middle of the room stood a huge canvas, towering almost to the ceiling.
It was a painting depicting a strikingly beautiful blue-haired man with an eyepatch, his only visible eye closed, and his head hung low.
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You, who are as beautiful as the memory I have no recollection of, I give you my heart.