When the painter was brought to the conversation, she wondered if it was the same painter who had painted almost all painting in the gallery? Ian mentioned that the painter would be heartbroken and thought that if she was a painter she would feel saddened when she found out her painting had been ruined.

"Can I see the painting?" She asked him, her steps were not moving forward even as she asked because of the close distance.

Ian moved forward to take a better look of her face. The small nose she had made him want to pinch her and her lips which was pink and plump look very delicious. He held the painting on his hand and playfully bring it forward to her hand before taking it back. Elise blinked at how the painting that was about to reach her hand was taken again.

"You don't believe me?" He asked, mixed with the sound of a disappointed voice.

"I was wondering what painting it was and if I could help to fix it." She replied, bringing her sweaty hand to to squeeze her other hand.

"Have you paint before?" He asked her, wondering what she could mean by fixing the painting.

"I haven't had the opportunity to paint, master Ian. But my uncle was a painter, I've watch him paint since little. Perhaps I could help to fix the painting just for a little." she remembered the painting placed in her uncle's house and recall how she would often stare at the process of painting for hours and admire the paintings once it had been finished painted. She always found herself amazed by how her uncle would be able to fit one landscape into a single canvas.

"That wouldn't do." Ian replied to her, and she saw him took the white fabric to close the portrait before passing it to her hands. He kindly explain, "It's a painter's edict to do what they started alone until the end of the painting, they are almost possessive of the painting and the subject they painted to the frame. They wouldn't like it when other's touch or paint over their canvas." Elise then thought that perhaps it was true, she had only heard painter paint alone and never heard of others finishing another's painting. "It would be as if their painting was stolen on the hands of others." Ian was having a very amused expression at the moment. He was having fun with the troubled expression Elise had, her distress frown and her eyes that felt guilty to the painter.

"May I ask who was the painter, Master Ian? I will go and apologize to the painter immediately." Elise said then she felt him taking a step closer in a very dangerous step that almost had her took a step back and she managed not to but her eyes were now lower on the floor.

"What will you tell him?" Ian asked her, bringing his hand he stopped at her hair pulling and tugging at it as if calling her to walk forward and she did. "I'm sorry and I will fix this?"

Was there anything else she could do? She asked herself, and gave him a nod as her reply. She then heard him say, "That's not enough. You need more sincerity. When you apologize you need to offer something, of course this is a special event you could do only to a few people like me..." he trailed and she waited for his continuation when there none because she could only offer things to him. "Let's practice." he suggested kindly.

Ian urged her, why was Master Ian being a little mean to her now? Or was it only her feeling? Because Ian had been smiling the entire time happily.

"Go on," He encouraged her, "Or we could wait here until you are able to finish your practice."

Elise clutched the painting closer, seeing it, she remembered her fault and gave him a nod, "I-I'm sorry." she said, her toes in her shoes curled, her face shyly dipped in red. "I will help to fix the painting if I could." She turned her eyes up to read his expression wondering if it was enough but it didn't seem so. She felt her whole body hot from the tension inside the room. The apology she said now feel as if it was a sweet beckoning to invite a devil. He told her to offer after an apology, and she did by continuing, "and I would help in anything you request if I am able to."

"Good." Ian said letting go of her hair, he brought his hand to her head and gently rubbed her head as if praising her. Every punishment needs a praise which was what Ian doing now. He would punish his puppy but he would never forget to pamper and coax her up. Elise felt relaxed when he rubbed her head although she wished he wouldn't touch her ears and make her shuddered the way she felt now.

"I accept your apology." Ian said, letting her go, "Now you will have to fulfill your words. I'm wondering what can you help me with?"

Elise blinked at him. Why Master Ian the one accepting the apology? He wasn't the painter... She caught his smile widening when realization sank into her.

"Did I not mention you?" Ian subtly chuckled, "I'm the painter." He filled in the words for her mind to finally come and wrap with the situation.

She felt that finally sinking in, her lips moved to say, "You lied." her whispers didn't fail to come to his ears. Her sweet voice accusing him lying was adorably dearing, almost urging him to press his mouth to the lips that had spoken the words.

"I didn't lie, Elise. Have I denied that I was the painter?" She felt him coming closer, cutting the distance and she suck the breaths that slipped from her mouth. If Elise had accused someone, she would expect the person to be angry and thought that Ian was feeling offended too. Yet the wide smile that was on his lips were with wickedness which came not from anger.