The red paint ran down the brush, the metallic smell combined with the acrylic is the only thing your senses capture besides sight. Ryosuke delicately traced on the painting, letting his imagination take the course of his actions with the paint.

Was it really paint?

Ignoring the feeling of alert you had, you approached his figure, observing what he painted. Of few words and a clear desire, you were the muse in Ryosuke's paintings. For years, that devotion led him to become a recognized figure in art, someone who beautifully paints someone he considers beautiful, you.