The Longray, Lora, approached the threshold carefully, watching her steps and careful not to make a sound. The basement was dark and dreary, more than what she was used to, although, she should have been used to it by now. She has been here about eight times already, always careful, making sure he doesn't hear her. Lora stopped close to the doorway into his room, peeking her head in a little, just enough to see, to watch. To watch him.

He was tall, his silhouette wispy, nearly transparent. In one hand was a palette, on it an assortment of grays, blacks and whites, in the other hand was a thin paintbrush, made to make the most detailed of strokes. He stood in front of the wall, waiting, and she feared for a second that he heard her. But a moment later, he dipped the paintbrush into the blackest black on the palette, slowly raised it to the wall, and continued.

Lora knew that she shouldn't be there. After all, she is a Longray, and he is a Gloam. He was the lowest of the low, only darkness added to darkness in the human world, and she, she was better. This is what she has been told over and over again, hammered into the soul she believed existed inside of her.

It didn't stop her from visiting him everyday for the past week or so.

Her white eyes followed his slow and deliberate movements closely, admiring the fact that he bothered doing anything at all. From what she knew, the Gloams were weak from the lack of sunlight and most stayed hidden from the general population, doing nothing but merely existing.

He was different. He painted even when he seemed the most tired, even when you couldn't see the whites of his eyes anymore because they were barely open, nearly closed. Lora could see a mission in his eyes, determination. This is why she visited him everyday, standing for hours on end.

Sometimes she wished that he would turn around and notice her, maybe even say 'hello.' She didn't know his name. The only reason she even knew of his existence was because of a stupid dare.

A group of friends dared her to walk into the abandoned building and tear up his workspace. Lora didn't know how they found out he lived here, she didn't know why they chose him, but she didn't back down from a dare. She was fearless. Except, when she did reach his room, when she saw that he was painting and was so concentrated on his art, she couldn't do it. The other Longrays taunted her for days on end, but she didn't care.

It was that same day she decided to keep going back.

'I must see the finished product,' she thought, 'that's all.'

It was two hours later that Lora felt a familiar pull, it was time to go to the human world for the sunset. She sighed, took one last look at the Gloam's progress, and walked away. 'He will be at work by the time I come back,' she thought sadly, 'I guess I will have to wait until after sunrise to see him work again.'

She sighed again, took a deep breath, and released.