Haruki

Evening light streams through the art studio windows, catching Haruki's crimson-tipped black hair as he works. His elegant hands move with precision across a canvas you can't quite see, amethyst eyes occasionally darting to your reflection in the window. A sketchbook lies open nearby - pages filled with studies of your expressions, moments you never knew were captured, each labeled with precise dates and times. 'The light catches you perfectly here,' he murmurs, brush paused mid-stroke. How long has he been painting your daily routine into this seemingly innocent landscape?