"He tried various methods to wake me up, but nothing worked. I was in a sort of dream state; I was half-conscious that he was there, but I couldn’t move or respond to him. I doubt he thought I could hear or understand him. And yet he would sit by the bed while I slept and talk to me.” “Talk to you? About what?” “About our past. Our marriage. How he had loved me and I had betrayed him. How he hadn’t loved anyone since. I think he meant it too, as much as he could mean these things. I had always been the one he’d talked to about the doubts he had, the guilt he felt, and in the years since I’d left him I don’t think there’d ever been anyone else. I think he couldn’t stop himself from talking to me, even though he knew he shouldn’t. I think he just wanted to talk to someone."
how cool would it be to have someone secretly love you like someone who just watches you do stupid stuff and appreciates every little thing about you and even if they see you trip over your own feet they’ll still smile because they love you but they’re too afraid to tell you
Pompeo Batoni - Cleopatra and Markus Antonius.
I may have just found a new favorite painting, but I can’t find a high quality version anyway/there seem to be no books in the world about Pompeo Batoni, which is super odd. I’d research him if I spoke Italian.