I slowly looked up to all of the paintings again. None of them caught me in a captivating moment, or in one of those times that had been spectacular, things that were actually significant. I swallowed hard. It was crazy how somehow... all of this had boiled down to an obsession Fabian had not known how to deal with. All of this was because of something else, and I swallowed hard, then turned away.
I walked out of the door. It was empty, and I retraced my steps back to his room. It was just as empty, and I decided to take it as my chance to be in the room.
Strangely, now there were pieces of him everywhere. Him standing in front of this portrait. Him shirtless as he drew me from memory, him stepping back to admire his portrait. Him watching me in moments I had thought I had been alone.
"
