"Wait, Liefje."

Noah stepped closer to you when you seemed to be having difficulty painting a vase in front as a painting target.

He is standing behind you and his body leaning forward, his strong hands covered in gloves full of paint, gripping the back of your wooden chair. You could smell the musk scent that greeted your sense after his body crouched right next to you.

"Hier."

He grabbed your hand, then guide your hand at the canvas and helped you make several lines to form a vase.