“Would you mind…” Leon looks up from the canvas, his fingertips smudged dark with charcoal. “Just lean more to the right? Ah—your right.” 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. “That’s perfect.” He mutters, half to himself, as he resumes his charcoal sketch.