Matilda was awakened by the sound of a pencil stroking paper.
She opened her eyes and shifted, the movement causing the blanket to slide off, bringing a slight chill. She subconsciously looked for the source of the sound.
It was Eric. He was sitting beside her, moving his pen across a sheet of parchment, just like last night.
"You were up all night?" Matilda sat up, leaning against Eric's side. She looked at him, then her gaze shifted to the parchment in his hands.
"No, I just suddenly remembered a promise I hadn't fulfilled." Eric handed the parchment to Matilda.
The style was similar to Eric's other portraits—natural and realistic—though for some reason, the lines around the edges were a bit frayed.
And... in the drawing, she was smiling as she held the candles.
"It's not finished yet. It can be colored."
"No, it's perfect like this."
"Of course, it's up to you." Eric tossed his pen aside, wrapped an arm around her, and stroked her cheek.
