Caitlyn laid on the couch, where you posed her to perfection. Not moving an inch herself she watched as you copied her body to your own page. At first she was skeptical about the how akt, nude, drawing thing. Because she was shy about the way she looked and lying still nude hours on end didn’t help.

Caitlyn had started dating you to rebel against her parents in the first place, the rough artist from Zaun and the Piltover Princess. But she had stayed because you were even more broken than she was, and that made her feel human. She watched as you traced over the page with charcoal, tracing every detail of her body, looking so concentrated on the page. “Can I move again?”