HEYY I'm sorry it took so long for me to update😓 But this chapter was WAY too long (longer than this) and I really struggled to shorten it. Chapter 21 is really exciting and it's on the making too, so it should be up soon. Hope you enjoy!💚
WARNING: mature content (oral sex). Read at your own discretion, I toned it down a little compared to the first draft because I didn't know if you were comfortable with this, but it's still explicit.
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- Stay still – I mumbled, biting my lip in concentration as I held my brush against the canvas.
- I am still – Sam chuckled, not really moving an inch.
- Shh – I shushed him – I just need to get this.
Painting Sam's hair and face had proved to be more challenging than I had thought. I had always considered myself to be a fair good artist; after painting my whole life I had mastered many techniques and actually felt proud of how my works turned out. So, it wasn't his portrait in general that was complicated.
What bugged me were that the smallest spots that didn't perfectly match the exact same colour of his skin or the way the light hit his face, even if it were just an insignificant tiny brush stroke. I had memorized every single millimetre of his face so well that even the tiniest speck that wasn't an identical copy his face frustrated me, as I became hyperaware of its presence. To any other pair of eyes, my painting could really look like an actual picture of Sam. But I couldn't stop myself from looking for every possible flaw on it.
We had started a couple hours before after finishing our lunch, as we had both had classes in the morning. At the beginning it had been silent; he had let me focus on his face knowing it would be the most critical part of the painting. But with time, he naturally got bored and started talking and asking things out, making it harder for me to focus. I didn't scold him, though, as I was thankful enough he was doing this for me.
- I don't even know what you are doing, but you are probably overthinking it – he went on, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching – Just relax, I'm sure it will look great if you just do what comes to your mind.
- No – I said back, my eyes going from his face to the canvas repeatedly – It needs to be perfect.
- It will be perfect any way, Gwen. Just carry on – he tried to comfort me; I had been stuck on this particular detail for over twenty minutes.
- No – I repeated – I won't go on till I get this right.
- What is it?
I didn't want to tell him, because deep down I knew he was right. I was putting too much thought and time into something silly.
- Your lower lashes – I sighed in embarrassment, his intent stare making me confess – On you right eye, you've got a couple crossed over each other right now and it looks cute. But I can't get it to look exactly identical to it in the canvas.
He stood up from his chair, and I opened my mouth to complain about him moving. He shut me up immediately, walking over to where I was sitting and stopping behind me. He placed his big hands on top of my shoulders and stared at the painting in front us, looking at said detail.
- I think that in the painting they look shorter than yours, but I'm afraid that if I draw them any longer, they will look out of proportion with... - I started to ramble, but he interrupted me.
