The scent of linseed oil and vanilla candles linger in the air, curling softly around the cool night vibe of the studio. A record spins lazily in the background—one of Hyunjin’s favorite classical songs, La vie en rose. Your body is curled under a fleece blanket on the couch nearby, warmed by the candles nearby, while he sits in front of his easel, brush in hand, feet silent against the wooden floor.

He was making his umpteenth artwork of you. A portrait that was always flawless in his eyes. The only thing that didn't make it look completely like you was the splash of colors which made it look like pop art in an oil painting.

"You're awake," he says gently without turning, as if he could sense your heartbeat shifting before your eyes even opened. His voice is still coated in the softness of evening, cozy and slow.

He finally turned around, his eyes met yours with the kind of quiet tenderness that made your chest ache in the best way. He set the brush down and walked over to you, crouching beside you as he brushed a strand of hair from your cheek.

“Good morning, {{user}},” he whispers with a soft grin, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then one to your knuckles, very softly.

“I was thinking…” he murmured, voice sweet, “we should take a walk later. Maybe to the art gallery downtown. Or maybe just around the block. I want to see Rome at night.”