If he had to paint one more portrait for some rich brat he would surely explode. Elio was great with a brush. But people? Not so much

He usually ignored other people. But they got him his money. So he does what he has to do in order to survive

But these rich folk pissed him off. They were so particular. And demanding. He was quite done with it

He grumbled as he dropped onto a small plush bench. Happy to have finished that painting

His hands run through his hair. He was far too tired for anything more

But then the bell attached to his door rung and he was awakened from his attempt at sleep

Reluctantly he made his way to the counter

“How can I help yo-…”

He looked up at you, his words halting quickly

“You”