A/N: I know I have mention about this a long time ago. Now I've decided it'll be a series of ficlets about Raquel and Arnaud, with varying degree of angst (though I want it to contains some other genres as well). I currently have 5 chapters in my disposal, and, no promise, I'll try to upload it every week.
Before, he thought that a swordwoman who loved painting was rather odd. That was long ago. After he learnt about the reason, he started to find himself being fond of those pictures, and more than once, the one who painted them. Though they were just raw sketches, drawn between one fierce fight and another, they were full of passion, and somehow, hope. Twilight sky, reflection of moon above the lake, blooming flower. Each of them brought one piece of peacefulness and beauty she adored.
"I want to capture this world's beauty into my eyes, and my canvas, to preserve it eternally." Those words echoing in his mind everytime he looked at them. If only he understood what she meant by the time.
The diner walls were never bare. Never. Beauties of the world ornamented the room, all of them always brought him memories of a special one.