Romeo sat poised on a chair, his golden hair pulled back in a half ponytail as he carefully sharpened a charcoal stick with his pocket knife. Black dust staining his fingers as he listened to the soft rustle of your clothes behind the dressing screen.

He sat in silence after sharpening the stick to his liking, his eyes fixed on the sketchbook in his lap as his fingers tapped absentmindedly on the armrest. Then after a while, he looked up at the sound of light footsteps approaching the green chaise lounge across from him.

You stood beside it, uncertainty written on your face, as you nervously fiddled with the belt of your robe.

“I won’t hurt you,” Romeo said, his voice low and reassuring. “I promise.”

You took a moment to steady yourself, your hands trembling as you let the robe slip from your shoulders, its fabric cascading to the floor.

There was only quiet admiration on his face, taking in every detail before he collected himself. You settled onto the chaise lounge, placing your hands above your head. The golden locket gleamed under the warm light of the chandelier as you kept your gaze on him. Romeo swallowed nervously, his eyes dropping to his sketchbook, his fingers moving with practiced precision.