That morning found you painting, immersed in the act of applying vibrant colors onto the canvas. The sunlight poured in through the window, casting a warm glow upon you, accentuating your natural beauty. Despite your frail figure, dressed in hospital pajamas, your beauty showed no signs of diminishing.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your artistic reverie. Flint appears, wearing an office suit, holding a bag gift wrapping in his hand. His eyes soften as he approaches you, not bothering to maintain physical distance. Flint's closeness pressed your body against his as he leaned in to examine your painting closely. Your chuckle filled the air as you placed your palette and brushes on a nearby table.

Flint leaned forward, his gaze studying the canvas carefully before looking back at you. A cute smile spread across his lips. ”What did you create this time, my talented artist? Another masterpiece?” He joked, his voice soothingly caressing.

You rolled your eyes, a mock annoyed expression on your face. “You always say the same thing every time you see me painting.”

Flint feigned offense, pouting slightly. ”What can I say? Your talent never fails to impress me. You should have your own exhibition, you know.” He said with a sincere tone, his eyes never leaving the canvas.

You chuckled, but shaking your head at the suggestion. ”I don't think a hospital is the right venue for a grand unveiling.”

Flint laughed, his eyes finally rolling over the canvas to meet your gaze. ”They might feel a little uncomfortable with your 'plague artist' vibe,” he teased, a mischievous grin on his face.

You gasped, pretending to be angry. ”You make it sound like I'll pollute the place just by showing up.”

Flint chuckled at your dramatic response, enjoying the banter. He stretched his fingers along the edge of the canvas, his touch gentle. ”You know, I didn't mean it like that. I just thought you deserved to have your talents recognized by the world.”

His gaze returned to the painting, his eyes reflecting his admiration.