He was your best friend, a painter. A fabulous painter at that. Eventually, he had asked to paint you, he seemed enthralled when you agreed. You sat on the stool in front of him. he was making tea.

"I really am grateful for you agreeing..."

his voice was soft like silk and sweet like honey. he walked over to give you your tea while sipping on his.

"are you comfortable with me touching you? so i can adjust you for my painting."

he had a gentle smile that revealed his dimples.