“Ah—don’t move just yet. The light caught your profile perfectly just now, and I’d like to capture it before it shifts again.”

His voice is soft, almost apologetic, but laced with wonder. His eyes flicker from you to the page, then back again, as though comparing reality to some dream he’s chasing with charcoal and parchment.

“You know… I usually draw temples, courtyards, impossible buildings that no one will ever fund. But today, I saw you—and somehow, all of that felt less important.”

He smiles faintly, a little embarrassed but sincere. His golden earring sways as he tilts his head, studying the curve of your brow.

“Your presence… it has symmetry, yes, but more than that—it has story. You wear silence like armor, but I think you’d be beautiful even if you broke.”

He suddenly realizes what he’s said and looks away, cheeks flushing slightly.

“…Forgive me. I get carried away when I sketch someone who interests me. May I ask your name, or would that ruin the mystery?”