Through Her Eyes ✔

9. PROOF

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Theory: No one can lie to their soulmate. There are many accounts where one can feel the emotions of their soulmates. Few testifies that they can even read each other's thoughts. It's still unknown if it is only applicable for a few or it can be for everyone and just waiting to be awakened.

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"Have you ever thought that those dreams you're having are soul dreams and those men could be your soul mates?"

Daun snaps her head towards the stranger. "Excuse me?" She whispers-gasps. Partly surprised of the baritone that broke the silence of the small gallery she just rented to showcase some of her best works. The moment she heard the word "soul mates" something warm creeped over her spine and made her heady. Perhaps its because of the honey glazed over the low voice of the man, so nice and sultry for her ears. The stranger is looking at her intently. He has a cap on his head and a black face mask. She could not make out if he is smiling or smirking but she sure knows how attractive his piercing eyes are. The brown orbs are so familiar for her, twinkling under the bright light of the gallery.

"You're a fan?" She smiles when she notices his shirt, one of her merch.

The man winks on her and she blushes. She is so happy that a fan visits her and even approached her on the first day of her exhibit. She did not expect anyone as most of her patrons are not from Korea. She was just hoping that somehow, someone could be curious enough to be at the small gallery after dining on the small restaurant at the next building. She was just behind the small counter texting her best friend for this great opportunity when the man asks the question. Her brows wrinkles on something that she realizes.

"How do you know I am the artist?" She asks. How would he know? Her website has no indication of her real identity. She always goes with the alias of "Dreamer".

"Are you not?" He replies, brows a little bit tilted in amusement as if teasing Daun and daring her to deny it.

"Well..." She stands up and about to shake his hand when the phone almost dropped out from her hands. It gaves her a little bit of fright. "I know..." She smiles awkwardly when she hears him whisper "clumsy".

The man makes her nervous as he continues on looking at her. His eyes studying her.

"So? What..." The man is cut off by a loud gasps! The man stiffened and smoothly walks away.

"OMG! This is heaven! Imagine a huge gallery all for your masterpieces!" Hannah exclaims. Her hands clasping oblivious to the man who were just talking to her.

She is a bit embarrassed with the loud entrance of Hannah. Daun can't help noticing on how the man jumped and walked towards the farthest corner of the small gallery. She chuckles. Though the man is mysterious. Instead of being creeped out, she finds him amusing.

She wants to go over the man. It's seldom she can converse with a fan, but her pregnant bestfriend introduced her with a woman she is with. It turns out, the woman, is also a fan and has been eager to know who is behind the alias of the "Dreamer". She chats with her as Hannah listens with pride.

She is like a mother so proud with the accomplishment of her child. Not an hour long, one of Daun's painting has found a home.

Daun continues on casually chatting with the visitors. Hannah has already gone home. As time passes by, the visitor lessens and as she is about to sit down, she notices the same man standing in front of one of her huge pieces. It was actually a three-part piece with one theme. A picnic in a dark park with eight faceless people surrounded with rainbow mist. It was the most beautiful vision she ever had. Each stroke is a perfection. She intended to keep it, but when she posted it the other night on her website, an unexpected amount was offered for it by a mysterious mailer. Before she could reply her refusal, a huge amount was added on her bank. She could not believe how much the stranger would pay for her work. It was the biggest of her sale. Another mail was sent praising her and boosting her pride. She could no longer refuse.

She could not believe that the man stayed after how many hours already. It's already late. Her feet unknowingly steps towards the man. She becomes nervous. Perhaps of his huge physique? Perhaps of fear of criticism? Perhaps of excitement?... From what? She knows its not fear over the man. She doubts him to be dangerous.

She smiles, pride still on her heart as she stands beside the man. She inhales as the smell of his perfume reaches her nose. It reminds her of the dawn when she could smell the fresh fragrance of the leaves from the little forest near her apartment. This time a bit concentrated as it smells manly. It suits him.

"So?" The man tilts his head towards her. He is still on his cap and on his mask. This doesn't bother her at all! Daun has already done her vaccination, and perhaps the man is jus couscous. She could not feel any danger at him at all.

"I'm sorry?" Her brows furrow as she tries to understand what could be the stranger asks about.

"Have you ever considered that your paintings are products of your soul dreams?" He faces her as he asks again. His eyes looking at her intently as she laughs.

"You and my best friend are so alike." She can't help smiling. She feels so comfortable. Usually, she would shy away from men. She feels at ease, as if she had known him for so long already.

"That would be ridiculous. I should have that soul marks then." She points on one of the paintings with a tiger lily on the chest of her faceless but pouty muse. Obviously a man with its masculine torso, the face covered with colorful bubbles that reflects silhouettes of faceless people and a barren park. The painting is vibrant, a signature of her artistry.

"You don't?" He furrows. He's whole attention is with her. Very intrigued.

"As what is posted on my website, the paintings are just illustrations of my dreams and imaginations. A Soulo could never have a soulmate, thus I could never have those type of dreams." Without even thinking she says the statement swiftly with finality.

She stiffens.

Why would she reveal this to this stranger?

"Excuse me." She decides to walk away feeling shameful and confused. It's as if, she has no control over her actions. She just blabbered her mind out. Being a Suolo is considered a taboo and she has been hiding this for a long time but somehow, she has this need of telling this giant man the truth. Before she could stop it, she just spilt it. Though she did not directly admit it, but she somehow implied it.

The man is left confused. "Why would then a soulo vividly dream on the same people and soul marks?" His voice no longer a whisper. The other visitors snaps their heads, distracted.

She stops on her steps.

It's true. With very keen eyes, one can tell that the silhouettes and the faceless men are repeated muse and themes on her paintings. What can she do, they are like her angels that keeps her from drowning in sorrow. How can he tell someone that they have been with her dreams ever since she was a child? Hannah even only know about her recent dreams. She didn't reveal to her the entire truth. What if, just like the psychologists she's been, Hannah too, would say that they are just hallucinations, cause they are not. For Daun, they are as real as Hannah. They are not just imaginary friends when she was little. They are not her coping mechanisms, as what the therapist said. They are her real friends.

She is afraid to spill unnecessary things on her life to the stranger. No matter how at ease she was, she could not help her heart beat so fast with fear and anxiety. The comfort that she just felt is now changed to dread. It's as if the man has been wanting to dig some bones she is always keeps on burying.

She forces a smile on her face. "I am sorry everyone, It's already late." She claps her hands and leads everyone out of the gallery.

The man wants to stay but he senses her uneasiness. He can see her eyes purposely avoiding him, and so he steps away.

For now.