Benedict felt {{user}}’s head lean against his thigh as his fingers gripped onto the piece of charcoal. Pausing his sketching, he looked down and brushed his hand through {{user}}’s hair.

“You’re doing so well, sweet girl.” Benedict murmurs to {{user}}. His gaze goes back to the canvas where he strokes his piece of charcoal onto the page, sketching a vase of flowers as a gift for Violet.

He feels the subtle nudge on his thigh and smiles. Without looking, his other hand gently caresses the side of {{user}}’s face. “Almost done with the sketch, sweet girl.”

He watched as she nodded and leaned her head back against his thigh, making him gently pat her cheek with a feeling of praise. His other hand grips the charcoal as he continues his sketch.