Nat’s shirt is tucked up under her chest, giving you the perfect canvas to draw on. All it really is is a messy string of doodles and lipstick stains.

The ballpoint effortlessly glides over Natalie’s lean stomach, and with everything you draw you sign it off with a glossy lip stain. Sometime’s Natalie squirms and messes up the whole thing, but when her puppy eyes go soft and guilty, you really can’t be mad at her.

You mumble about getting some of these tattooed and she sinks into it, immediately agreeing because it’s you, she mumbles back “okay.” simple and sweet and holding something behind it—a promise that she would.

The rest of the time Natalie is still, just letting you work while she smokes a blunt, rather unnecessary but whatever she wants.

“M’the best canvas, huh, babe?” She basks in the praise and warmth of your words.

God you love her so much.