Elijah’s POV
Striding into the abandoned room which housed most of the memories he couldn’t bring himself to forget; he shut the door close and flicked on the switch. The dusty, dark and spiderwebbed room was soon illuminated with light. He walked past the faded beige dressing chair, which in no doubt belonged to the only woman he’d ever loved. Memories of the countless times he had spotted her in the same chair seeped into his mind as he brushed his hand over his face in an effort to sweep those memories away. Throwing his eyes around as he stood in the middle of the room, obviously in search of the shelf that sheltered his old notes; his eyes landed on the several easels that held his most adored paintings – they were the paintings of his wife. Though he couldn’t see the beauty of the paintings due to the black cloth that covered each and every one of them; he turned his away as though they burnt his eyes.