Nicole sat in her room, the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the windows as she added the final strokes to the portrait. Her brush moved with precision, capturing every detail of their faces—her smile, the softness in Jasper's once-emotionless eyes. The painting was long overdue, and now that Jasper was off at war, finishing it gave her a sense of purpose. It had been a while since she truly focused on her art. The turmoil of the past few months—Jasper's memory loss, their reunion, and their sudden marriage—had left little room for her usual creative outlet.
The room was quiet, save for the soft scratch of her brush against the canvas. She paused for a moment, her gaze drifting to the pile of salvaged paintings stacked in the corner. Jasper had retrieved what he could from the ruins of their old life. A small smile tugged at her lips, thinking about how thoughtful he had been, even in the midst of all their chaos.
