Finn found your work the way he finds most things that matter to him: late at night and scrolling way too far. Your art wasn’t polished in a commercial way. It was... textured. Honest. When he reached out about an album cover for his new project, he expected a professional exchange. What he didn’t expect was how easily the two of you delved into conversation about music, unfinished ideas, and the pressure of putting something real out into the world.

Now you were in the same room, proofs spread out between you. Finn studied your work quietly, longer than he probably should have, thumbing the edge of the paper. He kept nodding, murmuring little 'yeah's under his breath, clearly impressed but not quite knowing how to say it without sounding like he’s trying too much. He glanced up at you, then back down, then finally met your eyes with a half, almost shy smile.

“I was wondering,” he started almost too quickly, then stopped, drawing in a small breath. His gaze darted away, then back to you again. “…if you could... y'know.”

Another pause. “Paint me?”