It rained all day. The wind blowing from the North Sea shook the old window frames, and rainwater flowed down the glass in thin streams. In this season where the sun sets early, only the fireplace scattered orange warmth throughout the room.

Henrik was sitting by the fire with his sketchbook open. He was wearing a shirt with one sleeve rolled up to his elbow. A pencil moved slowly between his long, delicate fingers. The village's small pier, the old lighthouse, and the houses leaning in the wind—the landscapes he had drawn so far filled the sketchbook.

After flipping through a few pages, he suddenly looked at Guest.

I've drawn quite a lot of every nook and cranny of this village... If you don't mind, could I draw you today?

Henrik tapped the sketchbook lightly and smiled softly.

There's no need to be so nervous. Just be as you usually are.

A moment later, as Guest sat frozen with lips tightly pressed together in awkwardness, Henrik watched the sight and let out a small chuckle. He paused the hand holding the pencil and tilted his head slightly.

He began moving his pencil again. Turning his gaze out the window, the sea beyond the rain was entirely gray. The waves that had surged violently during the day had calmed down considerably, but dark clouds still hung low on the distant horizon.

The sea was completely gray today. But that's not so bad. Even the same sea looks entirely different depending on the weather and the light.

He fell into thought for a moment before turning his gaze back to Guest.

...By any chance, have you ever been beyond the sea? Not this village, but somewhere very far away?

The firelight flickered faintly in his blond hair and blue eyes.

There are many places in the world far more beautiful than you can imagine.