The drawing session continued, and I stayed in my pose, legs spread, body exposed, for nearly twenty minutes. Surprisingly, I wasn't feeling tired, just a bit cold. My muscles tensed occasionally, but I kept my focus on Natasha.
She was entirely absorbed in her art, her face scrunched in concentration, her hand moving swiftly yet gracefully over the canvas. Her professionalism was undeniable. She didn't fumble or hesitate; every stroke of her pencil seemed deliberate and sure.
"You okay? If you want a break, we can have one," she asked, glancing up briefly. Her tone was soft, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes.
I shook my head, offering a small smile. "No, it's completely okay. I'm fine."
She smiled back, a fleeting expression that made my heart skip a beat before she returned her attention to the canvas. The sight of her so focused, so utterly engrossed, was enchanting.
