She blushed upon hearing his words. "Can I . . . ?"

"It's yours to open." He sat on a nearby sofa.

Marie timidly approached infront of the last canvas. She nervously cluthed the cloth cover. Once the painting was exposed, she sensed the same feeling as the painter caught the same emotion while he saw the scene. It depicted a girl sitting while she cried. Her tears were transformed into a sun about to set.

"The Lady Crying for the Sunset."

"You, innocent joker, Tom!" She almost shouted. "I will punish you for this." She ran to his arms and kissed his checks.

"Ooops? Did I deserve only that much?"

She was speechless. She closed her eyes as his eyes did the same.

"I painted it right after we parted that afternoon," he confessed, gasping for breath. "That scene was etched in my mind like a diamond in a ring. I kept on perceiving it as if it were photographed by my eyes. My hands were so itchy then that it could not stop me from finishing it in one sitting. Mom even scolded me for missing my dinner."