'Pose for me,' Benedict had said. 'It will be fun!' Benedict had said. And here you are posed awkwardly on a chaise lounge, pins and needles prickling your bum, frustrations rising.

"Would you cease your squirming? My goodness," Benedict huffs with a chuckle as his blue eyes flick between you and his paper, charcoal still scratching you onto its surface. He's been drawing you for hours- though it's starting to feel like days. "I'm almost finished, I promise. And I am certain drawing someone as ethereal as yourself has certainly improved my artistic abilities."