"This is wonderful." You murmured in wonder at the immensity of the paintings that were in front of you and roamed the huge hall where you were. You blink your eyes a few times feeling more and more amazed with every detail, with each expression and with every brush of each painting. God, today was the first time you had seen such beautiful paintings. "Kris, this is really wonderful." You cooed, turning your face toward the direction of your boyfriend who was on your right side with his arms crossed above his chest and with a scowl.

"I'm much better than this." He nodded more to himself than to you, and you lifted an eyebrow. "I can draw and paint much better than these artists." He pointed with his chin at one of the paintings that was in front of you. You directed your face to check the painting that he had pointed and your eyes widened. What you were seeing at this time was a perfect work of art. Kris couldn’t compete with that painting, even remotely.

"You really think so?" You asked in a doubtful tone while you laid your hands behind your back and you took small steps forward, looking more closely at the paintings of that huge exposure.

"Of course." Kris nodded as he followed your steps. "A good artist always carry his pencil to make sketches." He looked at you, all sure of himself, while his hand ran through the black pencil, which was placed behind his ear. "And of course, with his sketchbook." Kris took off his backpack that was on his back and opened it, pulling out a beige and black sketchbook with large loops. You rolled your eyes with his presumption and you decided to remain quiet for now.

You continued to cycle through each painting with guile and admiration. You really had never seen an exhibition of paintings and now that you got to see it, you weren’t unrepentant. Each painting showed a history, a time, a life to which you didn’t witness, and that fascinated you. You and Kris were in New York for a few days to rest. Who decided to come to a new country and travel was Kris. He wanted to show you some new things and then here you were, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, one of the most popular museums around the world for its famous exhibitions.

"Omo... Kris... This is wonderful..." You murmured stopping in front of a beautiful and colorful painting that immediately captivated your attention. Kris raised his watchful eyes of his sketchbook and looked at you. A small smile appeared at the corner of the mouth of Kris when he saw your beautiful eyes shine with wonder. Your lips were somewhat parted and the fingers of your right hand were slightly stretched, ready to touch the painting, but you just gave up of the idea, knowing it was forbidden to touch in the frames. “Kris…” You called him, causing his heart throb a little more. This was something that you were able to do with him since he started to like you.

"Yes...?" Kris raised an eyebrow in your direction when you didn’t continue with the statement, leaving him waiting. You turned your ankles and you looked at his soothing appearance.

"Are you able to paint this?" You asked as a wee smile reached your lips, and you pointed out with your index finger at the painting. It was a painting of normal proportions, taking into account the previous paintings you saw. The painting showed a beautiful garden decorated with a simple white wooden stool with varied decorative pillows along it and surrounding it, were pink roses that filled the garden, giving a lovely view for those who looked at the garden and imagined it in their minds.

"Uhh... Sorry, Seorin-ah..." He materialized the words in a quick stir of lips. "But this kind of painting isn’t my style." He shook his head negatively, moving a few strands of his platinum blonde hair that fell gracefully over his inquiring eyes. "My style is more... Mm..." He brought his long fingers to his chin and toured the clean ceiling with his eyes. "How should I call it…?" He muttered to himself as he rubbed his chin with his thumb. "Oh yes, simple... My style is simpler." He snapped his fingers and nodded with a smug smile on his lips.

"Oh, I see." You coughed up while trying to hide a small laugh that was locked down in your throat. Oh god, Kris could be so smug sometimes, that even made you want to laugh loudly. He didn’t know how much was comical to see the seriousness in his face when he said he was the best artist when it involved painting. "Aigoo, this is the last painting." You murmured a bit sad to have finished watching the exhibition. Neither seemed you had been there for over an hour.

"Hey, don’t be sad." Kris kept his sketchbook again in the backpack and put the pencil behind his ear. "Let's get something to eat and then we can see another exhibition." He shot you a lovely smile and then he covered your shoulders with his long and warm arm. You nodded with a small smile and then both left the museum.

The weather in New York was good. Some clouds covered the sky and the rays of the sun appeared from time to time, warming you two. Some people came out of clothing stores and others came out of toy stores with their children in their arms. Other people stopped in the streets to see the statues that moved when they put a coin, causing laughter fulfilled the streets somewhat populated.

Kris took off his arm of your shoulders and lowered his hand, touching lightly on your cold fingers. He smiled softly as his fingers fell into place perfectly with yours and he felt the happiness and calm veil his whole heart. A light breeze shook your hair, putting it behind your shoulders and Kris stole a glimpse into your beautiful countenance. Yes, he was so comfortable with you and yes, he loved you with all his heart.

Kris's thoughts were quickly interrupted when he felt you loosen your fingers of his hand and when he no longer felt the soft touch of your fingers and saw you running to a shop nearby, he frowned.

"Oh my God!" He heard you squeal in a low tone when he approached you. You rested your forehead on the shop wall and you squeezed your nose against the glass making Kris chuckle. "Kris... The painting I liked... There, over there, is another copy." Your voice came out muffled against the glass, moistening it with your breath. Quickly, you mopped it with the sleeve of your jacket and then you admired the painting again. Kris looked in the direction that you pointed out and he saw the painting, the painting that you had asked if he could