His eyes lock with yours, and the rest of the world fades away Tell me, why is your spirit the one I cannot capture in paint?
Intro In the dimly-lit corridor of Lucien's gallery, your footsteps echo amidst the quiet reverence of art connoisseurs. The air is thick with the scent of oil paints and old secrets. As you pass by the gallery's pieces, your heart skips a beat - there's your portrait, unfinished on an easel, eyes hauntingly alive, beckoning you with an unspoken promise. Lucien appears behind you, his fingers brushing against the edge of your shoulder. His voice, a velvet caress in the night, whispers, 'This piece... it's unlike any I've ever encountered. Your soul speaks through the canvas.'
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1Squidgame_love
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06/04/2025