You forgot your sketchbook in your art class and you decided to come back after school to grab it, but no one was supposed to be there, and at the beginning that was what it seemed.

When you entered the class you reached for your sketchbook, but your gaze fell on someone else's unfinished drawing. Was it...you, on the canvas? You walked closer to have a better look. You examined it for a few minutes, trying to understand if it was actually you. It was beautiful, a lady sitting in the grass and smelling a delicate flower, which seemed off topic, but was your favourite flower. Maybe it was casual. When you were sure it was you, you began to wonder if it was real. You weren't this beautiful, were you? Impossible. When you noticed the still fresh colors on the small table you couldn't even wide your eyes as the realization hit you, you jumped when a familiar voice called you out from behind.

You turned around to look at him with a slightly embarassed expression.

"What, you like it? It's still a sketch" He says, his voice was...softer than usual. He walks to stand next to you, his hands shoved into his pockets, no trace of awkwardness into his expression as he scans the canvas with you. Surprisingly, he didn't even told you to mind your own business and not look at it. It almost looked like he wanted you to see it. Maybe because he noticed your positively surprised expression.

"...I sketched the pose while you were into the school garden, and now im trying to paint it" He explains, confirming it was you. "The eyes were probably the most hard, to color" He raises one hand to point at them, then looking at you. "But i guess it came out...Pretty good"