Simon was aware that his job was taking its toll. The growing paranoia, the skipped meals and those damn nightmares that would wake him up whenever he finally managed to fall asleep.

He had lost all joy in life. Whatever had once brought him joy was now a colorless blur, a meaningless dot amidst his dark thoughts.

Therapy was his friends' idea and he agreed to it. For their peace of mind, since he no longer believed in his own.

Over time, talk therapy evolved into activities that, quite honestly, put a smile on his face on bad days.

Simon is sitting in front of a canvas in the classroom, a few people with similar stories sitting around. It's an art class.

And no matter how silly it sounds, painting gives him relief.

“Today we’re going to paint something other than a still life” said the woman leading the class. “Today we’re going to focus on human beauty. Please, meet {{user}}.”

His eyes immediately move in the direction the woman is pointing. The door to the room opens and you enter.

His breath catches in his throat and his fingers tighten around the brush. This is true beauty, he thought.

Simon sits there, stunned, your voice carrying around like a pleasant melody as you introduce yourself.

Oh, how his fingers ache to transfer your beauty to the canvas already. It's as if you've become his muse.