Elizabeth had stayed over my manor for the night, even though I never gave the approval for a sleepover. She took it upon herself, despite knowing I had business to attend to. I'm sure she had more important things to do than to saunter around my mansion aimlessly because I wasn't paying her the boundless attention she needed.

It was midday when I was walking to my bedroom to retrieve my journal. I'm not sure why I stopped, but my vision wandered to the open door of the guest room Elizabeth had resided in the past night. I should have respected her privacy. But the door was open a mile and this was my manor, after all. I'll be honest, the mirror wasn't the first thing I stared at, but when I did stare at it, I found a portrait of myself nestled into the frame of the mirror. Was that you?

The more I stared, the more I grew curious. I didn't have 20/20 vision, but I knew for a fact that it couldn't have been me because the boy wasn't wearing an eyepatch. Then who could it have been? I stepped into the room to take a closer look at the lopsided drawing. It was you! It was drawn with phenomenal skill, despite being merely a sketch. Upon further expectation, I found that the lines, shapes, value, forms, space, texture, and colour (or rather, the absence of colour) was all made with charcoal marks. Impressed, I began to wonder. I had so many questions. Who drew this? Why did Elizabeth have this? Why did you look so young? I realized that I didn't look any younger than I do now, the only difference was there was a look of innocence expertly captured in the charcoal drawing. A look of innocence and… happiness.

I straightened when I heard a voice behind me, and turned just as the intruder began speaking. "I drew that." Elizabeth wasn't staring at me. In fact, her eyes were focused on the picture rather than working the courage to face me. I didn't respond, attempting to process what she had just said, so she continued with an explanation. "Awhile back. That's why you look so young."

That was abysmal, I had to know if she was telling the truth. "You drew that when you were younger?"

Elizabeth nodded, and then turned her strawberry leaf-green eyes to the ground, as if there was something important inscribed into the patterns of the carpet. "Yeah, that's why it looks terrible… at least, that's what I assume you're thinking."

No, I'm just astonished you can draw so well. Damn it, how didn't I know that you could draw?! "You drew me?"

The girl shifted, thinking about the question. With every question she seemed to grow restless. "Well… yeah… should I not have?"

"Why would you draw me?"

"I don't know," she replied, trailing into a whine momentarily. She strode to the mirror and pressed two fingers to the jawline of the drawing, tracing along the marks and smudging them slightly to soften the shading. "I drew this that month you disappeared… I just… I thought I lost you. I didn't want just a tombstone to help me remember you. I needed a clear image of you…" There was a long pause. "I draw you a lot."

"You do?"

She nodded. "In most of them, you're smiling." I felt something inside my chest slowly grow tight the more she explained. "That's all I want. You hide yourself so much, physically and emotionally… you don't talk to me much anymore… I wonder if you even like me." And finally, my heart squeezed. She thinks you don't like her. Good lord, how did we even get here? She opened the drawer that belonged to the dresser the mirror was set on, and pulled out a pad of paper. Opening the pages, she flipped through various drawings. I didn't have time to see most of them in extraordinary detail, but I saw basic shapes of what they were. Fairies, unicorns, rabbits, there was even an entire page dedicated to different kinds of sweets. However, she stopped on one page that made my heart clench even more.

It was me, this time a full body picture. A sword in one hand, and a shield in another. This one was more recent, I could tell because in this one I wore my eyepatch. I slowly reached a hand and pressed my palm to the eye-patch as I analyzed the drawing. It was in ink, amazingly, and it looked like she had dabbed at it with watercolour paints. "Remember the time when you held a competition with my mother? Remember that big, scary bear? I was so scared, and then you grabbed me and held me so tightly. It was like everything disappeared. You held me, Ciel, like I would be gone the next moment." In the drawing, there was a smile on my face. Not cold. Not a lie. It was a smile, and my eyes were full of protection. How is she able to capture such emotions in her art? Does she do all of this from her imagination? In the background of the drawing, Elizabeth stood behind me, dressed in a elegant gown. I was protecting her. "I know that you just do everything because you have to." Her voice was wavering. "You have to keep a good image for society!" Her voice broke as she held back tears, I turned and I saw that she had turned her back towards me. "But it… in that moment, when you held me… it was great to be reminded that you at least still care."

My throat was tight. I tried to speak around the huge ball of guilt in my throat. "Elizabeth…"

She turned, her viridescent eyes glassy. I assumed she was going to ask me what I wanted, but after just a moment of inspection, she instead said, "You're looking at me the same way right-"

She never got to finish her sentence. I pulled her in for a tight embrace, one hand on the back of her head and my other arm wrapped around the small of her back. She smelled sweet, like vanilla and strawberry shortcakes. This girl is too good for you. She remembered the parts of you that you'd forgotten.

"-Now… like you're my hero."