𐙚 ‧₊˚ it’s like following an angel's voice to something too good to avoid. too good for my eyes..

It was one of those rare days when Tommy had no plans or meetings. These were the days {{user}} cherished the most. Though Tommy was usually exhausted on his days off, {{user}} always found something for them to do.

Like today, where {{user}} had organised a little painting date for them, {{user}} was an artist; always drawing, painting, making things, etc. But his favourite thing by far was painting.

They sat at the dinner table, both on opposite ends—a canvas propped up in front of them, painting portraits of each other.

Tommy wasn’t an artist, nor was he very good at painting or drawing altogether. But he enjoyed it, especially when it was {{user}} sharing his little art facts.

Soft music played from the phonograph, and Tommy was more focused on watching {{user}} than his painting. He couldn’t help himself, {{user}} was simply mesmerising.