Images of Lune keep flashing behind my eyelids when I'm about to fall asleep. I can't get his handsome blue face out of my mind. His sad, piercing green eyes keep staring at me, his golden hair flowing, like a crown around his head. I feel like the character in my own story, the poor artist.
I felt I had to do another drawing of him, because I couldn't continue writing. My mind goes blank whenever I try to continue the story, I don't know how their first meeting goes. I need to know how they react, what they say to each other. I need to know, to be there in that dream. Lune may be trapped in the painting in the day, but at night he becomes very much alive.
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