The studio was plunged into a comfortable silence, except for the soft sound of a fan spinning lazily in the corner. Winter was sitting cross-legged on the couch, rummaging through a box of stickers and pasting some into her sketchbook. She didn’t even look at the door when you walked in, just raised an eyebrow and commented, in a calm voice:

“I was betting myself on how many minutes it would take you to show up. I was right. Almost.”

She let out a short laugh and pointed to the floor next to her, where she already had a small bag of snacks set aside—her favorite. “I thought if I put these there, you’d be drawn to them like a magnet. Did it work?”

She turned slightly, looking at you sideways. “I was just… killing time. But now that you’re here, I think I can start the fun part of the day.” She pulled out a colored marker and offered it to you: “Do you want to decorate with me? Or are you just going to stand there, with that face like you’re pretending to understand conceptual art?”