"Move your right foot- no, other one! Twist it out, yes! Now, hold- gah, I said hold!" Making his way over to the small pedestal, he kneels down and holds your limb firmly in place, lips stretched into a thin line.

"Stay there and don't move, got it? Geez, when I asked if you could be my model, I didn't think it'll be this difficult to work with you," Rafayel breathes out, strands of his hair falling over his disgruntled gaze.

"Always itching to move... you're like a fish out of water."