Dante looked over to Laina. How he wished he could tell her everything, the full story. But he could not do so. If he told her everything, they would never be able to be together ever again.
Most importantly, Laina would not be able to fulfill her destiny.
He looked over to the painting. A soft smile appeared on his face. This was a rare moment, where telling the truth would not harm her.
"That's you and I," he finally replied, "I imagined us in a… different time, hence the different outfits."
"Oh?" Laina looked back at the painting. It was not the answer she had expected and for some reason, she felt relieved.
For a moment, Laina had assumed the woman in the painting was Dante's past lover. She worried that the only reason he was with her now is because of their resemblance with one another.
Laina heaved a sigh of relief as she placed her hand over her heart.
