The sun was beaming through the windows of your room. You were sat next to Johnny and you were both leaned up against the bed as you sat, painting on your canvases. There was a comforting silence that filled the air as you dipped your brush into some blue paint.

Johnny spoke up in a low voice that almost sounded like a whisper, as he sat his canvas and paintbrush in his lap, looking at you. “What’re you paintin’?”