Erin said, "My mom gave it to me."
George teased, "Then your mom definitely doesn't love you."
Erin glanced at him, stood up from the ground, and quietly went back to the easel, picking up the brush to start painting.
"Shorty, go get me something to eat."
"Why should I?" Erin shot him a cold look.
"Because..." George was caught off guard by his response and, momentarily stunned, couldn't come up with a reason.
Erin withdrew his gaze and began to slowly smear paint on the paper with the brush.
George, having nothing better to do and feeling hungry, could only watch him paint out of boredom.
Thanks to Daisy Ginger, he had learned oil painting for a while, although Robert Stephens felt that painting wouldn't be of much use to him in the future, so he didn't pursue advanced lessons. But with those few months of experience, he could sense that Erin was more skilled than the teacher Robert had found.
At the very least, that teacher couldn't mix such dreamy yet realistic colors...
