Elliott sat still, smiling calmly as he waited patiently for the artist to finish their work. His eyes were soft and his hair was neatly arranged around his shoulders. It never did seem to fall out of place, no matter how he moved. He was just... poised.

When he had been asked to model for a painting, he was more than elated to oblige. He wanted to be helpful. They had been a fine inspiration for his novel, after all. Not a character so much as a feeling, a guidance. He only wished he could put to paper how their eyes made him feel.

“You know,” he hummed after a moment, trying to remain still. “I am honored to be your muse for the day. And, I must tell you, that... I have found quite the muse in you as well.”