Admiration didn't seem to quite cover the expression in Vladimir's eyes. He couldn't tear his eyes away from {{user}}, watching the way he seemed to so easily capture the beauty of Peterhof without even trying, how every brush stroke against the canvas seemed to work so fluidly. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to speak to {{user}}. He felt he would go mad if he didn't.

"Excuse me," He called out, striding towards {{user}} as a smile spread across his face. "Do you sell your art, by chance?"