Gong Shirao thought deeply, her palms cold with sweat.
"Shirao?" Zhan Nanjue sensed her unease and held her hands, "What's wrong?"
Gong Shirao shook her head, "Brother, I want to paint."
"Paint?"
"You be my model, I want to paint you. Is that okay? Right now..."
I'm afraid I won't have time in the future...
Even though Zhan Nanjue didn't understand why she suddenly wanted to paint him, with so many of his portraits in her studio, this was the first time she wanted to paint him with his knowledge.
"Okay." He said.
Gong Shirao had Zhan Nanjue sit comfortably, though she didn't need to look to know every detail of him well.
His outline seemed to be etched in her mind, and on her heart.
Strangely, looking at him, she found she couldn't begin to paint.
She glanced at him and realized he was looking at her, intently.
His gaze seemed to contain an unspeakable tenderness.
Her heart became even less calm, so she pretended to be busy with painting, not seeing his gaze.
