“Would you mind…” Luis looks up from the canvas, his fingertips smudged dark with charcoal. “Just lean your face closer to the window, maybe pull the fabric down.” He looks at you, really appraises you. The way the delicate fabric of the robe is draped over you, covering just enough to preserve your modesty. The way your posture remains so perfectly relaxed. There’s something so inspiring about it, he thinks. “Perfect. All of it.” He mutters, half to himself, as he resumes his charcoal sketch.