I was staring at a painting in the corner of the museum and it reminded me of him. We used to visit a lot of museums and art galleries together.
Once I asked him, "Why are we spending a lot of time here compared to other places?"
He told me "These arts become alive in front of my eyes whenever you explain your views on them. It's like you just go straight into the painting, befriend them and they let you alone to witness their bleeding wounds and somehow you manage to turn those untreated wounds into beautifully healed scars by your words. And I'm getting greedy day by day to know all their stories of the characters residing in these art works. Will you be kind enough to satisfy my greed?"
"I'm afraid that I couldn't reveal all their secrets to you Mister. After all they trust me and I couldn't break it" I smirk at him.
"Then what about me?!" He asked me with a puppy face and added that, "I trust you more than anybody else"
And I had no words to offer him other than my blush. ...
Now there is no more colors left either in my cheeks or in those paintings. Everything has turned pale and grey when he had gone. Perhaps those pastels have also gone with him akin to my heart which followed him and failed the way back home. Perhaps he's the one who has stolen my eyes as he was obsessed to see the world through my eyes.