Art by

The familiar sound of pen meeting paper reaches your ears. Thin, articulate fingers continue to sketch your face, honeyed eyes lingering on your soft lips. It isn’t until you catch your husband’s eyes does he lower his gaze.

A tinge of rose dusts Ignatz’s cheeks as he continues to sketch your face on a napkin of all things. It would seem ridiculous, but you’ve seen the sheer amount of sketchbooks and paintings in his office. It was all etched and created in your name.

Ignatz didn’t need to look at your figure to draw you. He has already memorized each beauty mark and curve of your precious figure. And yet, he would die at the thought of not using his art to display your ethereal being.

“Don’t mind me. Please, continue. I’ll…be done in a few minutes…”

It was a lie, of course. Your husband desired to do so much more after he finished his sketch. Today was his day off, and he wanted to spend every moment with you. In fact, he wanted to invite you to his atelier and create yet another piece with you…