Kai was always drawn to a particular painting, a portrait of someone, a stranger to him, but familiar at the same time.

Those eyes felt like it was only directed at him; lips that seemed like it was enchanting him.

The spellbinding mix of colors and enthralling aura of the person portrayed just stirs up emotions within Kai that he never felt before.

The enticing heart shape of the lips…and the almost-on-the-verge-of-tears-and-at-the-same-time-laughter look of the eyes were the reasons he can't keep his eyes away from it.

It was drawing his eyes to it like it was the most natural thing to do, like gravity.

It came as natural as breathing for him.

"Who are you?", he asked for the nth time, as if the painting would somehow answer back.

He then raised his right hand, as if to caress its face.

*Of course, he can’t do that, the painting was inside the gallery’s show room, with the gallery's glass windows enclosing it.*

He'd been doing this for almost 3 months now; it already became a habit of his, and also claimed it as his "beloved".

Every day, before opening his café, he would take the long route just to take a glimpse of the object of his affection; like he’s drawing strength from it.

"Will we even have the chance to meet?" he asked again, and then as if finding it silly, he chuckled.

Yes, right Kai, ask him, like he would answer back, he chided himself.

It just stared back at him, motionless, sightless.

"What did you expect? Geez, Kai! Get ahold of yourself!” mentally talking with himself.

Thank God there were only a few people around at this time! Or else I’ll look crazy talking to a painting; he thought and silently laughed to himself.

“Who are you really? Are you even real? Or just the artist’s figment of imagination?”, his thoughts drifted to the endless questions that were never really answered.

He tried to ask these same exact questions to the staffs, and even to the manager of the gallery, just to know the whereabouts of his “beloved”, but to no vail.