Brandon sat on the leather-cushioned stool with his posture slightly hunched over the large sketchpad spread out on the slanted wooden desk.
The mobile phone rested upright on the stand just beside his elbow, displaying a full-screen image of Florence in a sunlit pose from earlier.
Florence sat quietly beside him on the edge of the low couch near the drawing table, her hands folded over her lap, watching him with quiet interest as he moved the pencil in steady strokes across the page.
The precision of his fingers was entrancing.
His eyes flicked back and forth between the image and the sheet, capturing the details, the curve of her collarbone, the slight tilt of her hips, the soft curls of her hair falling just short of her neckline.
Brandon's gaze drifted from the phone to Florence herself, "How did you know I liked drawing?" he asked, pencil still moving.
"Did you dig up stuff about me during my school and university days?"
