After several days of mostly a relaxing silence reigning, it was a talkative day again. When Luhan sat down on the grass, he said, “I want to talk today. It's been very calm the past few days, but I want to hear something again.” He gave Hana a smile.

“I don’t know what to tell you anymore,” Hana mumbled softly. “You basically know my whole life.” Just as she said it, she somehow realized that Luhan was the only knowing one. About him, she, now that she thought about it, didn’t really know anything. 

But just as she wanted to ask something about him, the male already began, “There's still a lot I want to know,” thus interrupting her. She looked at him questioning. Was there really still a lot he wanted to know? “For instance?” She asked, raising one eyebrow.

Luhan smiled. “You always said you loved art, but you never said why.” The girl tilted her head. He was right, actually. She had never talked about her passion in detail. “The reason you love art. The reason you draw and paint,” he said in a calm tone.

The girl unconsciously closed her eyes. “The reason, huh?” She mumbled absent-mindedly.

After a long while of her being lost in her thoughts, she whispered, “The reason is everything.” Luhan looked up surprised.

“Everything? What do you mean by that?” His gaze fell upon the girl, tracing her peaceful features. With her eyes closed, she looked very peaceful, actually. Very young, too. Almost like a child. “Just everything. This world, the people, myself,” she replied, her voice not louder than a whisper. “I never liked those.”

The male gazed at her. “You never liked yourself?” He asked, his voice barely louder than hers.

Hana tilted her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I don’t like myself in the real world. I like myself when I'm in my own world. That's where I can be myself …" She smiled happily, eyes still closed. One of the rare expressions that could be seen of her. "In the real world there are so many misunderstandings. No one sincerely listens to you, yet they pressure you to talk. It's ironic, isn’t it? I hate being misunderstood, but I feel like my whole life I’ve been, at least in this world …” she trailed off and opened her eyes, staring at the sky.

“But whenever I touched a pencil or brush, it was as if I had the key to open the door to my world. And that world was beautiful. There were no misunderstandings, no pressure because my thoughts were the only ones.”

“Was …?” Luhan reluctantly asked.

Hana tilted her head a bit. “I haven't gone there for a long time already,” she halted for a moment and breathed out slowly, “because I’ve lost the key, so I don’t know if it's still beautiful,” she elucidated, and Luhan immediately understood what she meant. With her the feeling in her hand, the entrance to her world disappeared. And the girl knew that Luhan understood; she knew that he was the only person she could say such things to. He wasn’t someone who would look at her weirdly because she talked about her world.

“And not being able to enter is terrible,” Hana continued. “That place was my escape … no one can imagine how great it is when you get lost in the painting. Suddenly you're not holding a brush anymore, you're not looking at a painting. You are in the painting, you feel the painting, you are the painting." The happy smile never left her face, and once could see how much she believed in those words. How much she believed in art. "And inside my world, I jumped from painting to painting. When I needed comfort, I went to a warm painting. When I was angry and needed to vent out my anger, I went to one that screamed wrath." She closed her eyes again as she reminisced. "You know, no one will disturb you there, no one will judge you, no one will tell you you're useless. It was a great place.” She took a deep breath after saying all that. No one besides Luhan had ever heard these words. Those were thoughts Hana had locked inside her heart for nineteen years. For such thoughts weren't accepted in the real world, and because she was afraid to show the world her vulnerability.

“I know people would tell me I’ve lost touch with reality, but …” “You don’t care,” Luhan finished her sentence with a smile. “Mhm,” she hummed affirmatively and sighed contently. It was silent for a while before Luhan suddenly said, “They say there's a fine line between and insanity.”

Hana shot him a glare. “Are you implying that I'm mad?” So, even Luhan was questioning her sanity after hearing what she said … Hana sighed. She had hoped he wouldn’t, but then again anyone would.

The male noticed the sudden change in her expression and grabbed her hand gently. “Maybe you are, maybe you're not,” he whispered, confusing the girl. “But I don’t think it's a bad thing to be different from the standard. Those whom society labels as insane are usually the sanest. They possess the most talent and intelligence. They see the truth others aren't able to.” He took her hand and lead it to his chest, opened her hand and put her palm against his chest.