Peter took much longer to explore the mansion than he had originally thought. Not because it was especially large, however, since it was actually quite small for a mansion. That was the only reason his late uncle had been able to keep it despite being short on money. No, the actual reason was because Peter had literally stopped at every painting he came across so he could admire it. There was little else inside the mansion except for the paintings. Peter frowned, knowing that his uncle wouldn't have been in money problems if he had only sold even one of his paintings. As a Hikari, he had always been a respected artist, and his work was worth a lot. Yet he hadn't sold any of his paintings of the woman he loved, named Maria, and instead kept them all. While Peter was happy his late uncle's work was now his to admire, he also felt that his uncle would have lived longer if it hadn't been for his unhealthy obsession with that woman. But that brought Peter to his uncle's last and most likely greatest creation: a portrait of Maria he had made in honor of her death, said to be the most beautiful piece of art his uncle had ever created.
Peter stood in front of the only door he hadn't been through yet: the door that led to the room with the only thing in it the portrait. Peter hadn't seen it for himself, but he had heard the description of the people who had. Everyone had said the painting was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. It contained a woman who resembled Maria, lying in the arms of a man whom you could only see the soft smiling mouth and nose of. Her sky blue eyes were half closed, and she was contently smiling. Her snow-white wings were open so they didn't come between her and her lover. Or at least that was what was said, but Peter would never be able to lay eyes on the complete painting.
He opened the door, expecting to see the most beautiful painting he had ever seen, but instead he saw a scene many times more breath-taking and beautiful.
The painting still hung on the wall, but you could only see the background and the man. Where the woman should have been depicted, there was instead a white empty space. But his eyes weren't focused on the painting, which he had wanted to see so badly. Instead, they were focused on the woman sitting on the ground in the middle of the room. He could immediately tell she wasn't human. No human could be so beautiful and perfect. She had hair that seemed to be made out of golden threads, wings in the most beautiful color of white he had ever seen and a pale skin without a single fault. Peter was only 14 at the time, but he immediately knew he would never be able to think of any other woman as beautiful again as his eyes locked with her eyes, whose sky blue color was so beautiful it couldn't be real.
Peter's face immediately flushed red and he averted his gaze from hers as he took as step back in shock. The woman, no, angel looked at him with curious, yet at the same time emotionless eyes. There was a loaded silence in the room, but the angel broke it by speaking.
'Who… Are you?' Peter barely registered her question, shocked at the heavenly voice of the woman. She looked in her 20s, but her voice was clear and innocent like a child's.
'I… I could ask you the same.' He barely managed to bring out his sentence. Somehow it didn't feel right, him, a normal 14 year old, talking to someone he could only describe as angelic.
The angel seemed to think about his question, and eventually stood up. Peter could see her body was without a fault too, and that she was wearing a white summer dress that reached just beneath her knees. She turned around, her long waving hair swaying a bit. She looked at the portrait. Well, to be more correct, she looked at the plaque underneath it.
'… My name is Angel's Portrait, but in the short time I knew him, my creator called me Maria.' Angel's Portrait? That was the name of the painting! And Maria was the name of the woman his uncle loved!
'You don't mean to say you're the Angel's Portrait?' Maria looked at him over her shoulder, and nodded.
'But might I ask your name?' Peter blinked. For a moment he couldn't remember his own name! He regained his composure and was about to introduce himself as Peter Howard, but he hesitated. If she was the Angel's portrait, then her 'creator' was probably his uncle. Somehow he figured she'd like it more if he introduced himself with his mother's last name, Hikari.
'My name is Peter Hikari.'
'Hikari… That's the same name as my creator's. Are you related?'
'He was my uncle on my mother's side.'
'I see. So you are hi nephew.' It was more like a statement than a question.
It was silent again, and Peter felt uncomfortable being all alone with her. But just when he wanted to come up with a weak excuse so he could leave, Maria walked towards him and held out her hand.
'… What?' Was all Peter managed to bring out, staring at the elegant and beautiful hand she held out to him.
'A handshake. This is something often used when greeting someone, no?' Peter nodded and, slightly embarrassed, shook her hand. Her skin was as smooth and soft as it had seemed from a distance, and Peter wondered if there was anything about Maria that wasn't perfect. Just then something happened that Peter would remember for the rest of his life.
'Nice to meet you Peter.' She said as she shook his hand, smiling at him kindly. Peter then knew that not only he would never meet someone as beautiful as her, he would also never meet someone he was more in love with than her.