FINALLY, I found a piece of clean bond paper and a pencil in his drawer.
I admit I’m not good in the house, but at least, giving him something that may ease his mind.
I sit down on top of his bed. Starting to paint an image of Mister Trevor in my mind—the perfect image he was good at.
I glide the pencil making a vague stroke, then making the shapes as I perfectly remember how he looks like.
It takes around hours before I am almost done, shading his eyes and other things to darken.
“Perfect!” I exclaimed as I distancing the paper away from my eyes, making sure that I can see it and will look like him the exact way.
It is his image when I saw him glowing in the moonlit. He looks so perfect, the first time I saw him and I can’t even realize that they are the same person now. I mean, I thought he was gentle, but it turns out that he’s not the one I know and the one I should assume for.