The next day, Victor made his way down to the art studio, a newfound curiosity drawing him toward Milo's creative space. As he approached, he spotted Milo standing in front of a large canvas, lost in his work. Dressed in a paint-splattered tank top and loose jeans, Milo was the picture of an artist completely in his element. His hair was messy, streaked with a few dashes of color from where he'd probably brushed it back with paint-stained hands, and he seemed utterly absorbed in the canvas before him.
Victor paused at the entrance, taking in the sight with a smile. There was something captivating about Milo in this moment—vibrant, carefree, and utterly focused.
Victor moved to the couch, watching quietly as Milo continued working. After a few moments, he decided to join him and approached from behind, softly placing his chin on Milo's shoulder. Milo jumped slightly, startled, but Victor placed a gentle hand on his arm, keeping him steady.
"Relax, it's just me," Victor murmured, his tone soothing as he continued to look at the canvas.
Milo's cheeks flushed pink, and his neck and ears warmed under the gentle touch and unexpected closeness. Victor's presence felt both grounding and distracting, making it difficult for Milo to focus on his painting.
Victor didn't seem to notice Milo's flustered state, though. He tilted his head, studying the unfinished artwork in front of them. "It's beautiful," he said softly. "But it's only half done, right?"
Milo managed to nod, though his heart was beating fast. "Yeah… I still have a lot to finish," he replied, trying to sound casual.
Victor tilted his head, intrigued. "Tell me about it. What's the story behind this piece?"
Milo glanced at him, a bit shyly, then turned back to his work, gesturing toward the painting with his brush. "It's a nine-tailed fox… inspired by folklore. They say a nine-tailed fox can live for hundreds of years, gaining wisdom and powers as it grows. This scene here"—he pointed to the fox on the canvas, surrounded by vibrant flowers and under a starlit sky—"is meant to capture that beauty and mystery. The fox is wise but solitary, always watching and waiting in the shadows."
Victor's gaze lingered on the canvas thoughtfully. "It's captivating," he murmured. "The colors, the way it all flows… it feels almost alive." He glanced at Milo with a gentle smile. "It's like you've captured something both ancient and pure. You have a talent for bringing out emotions in your work."
Milo felt his cheeks warm even more. "Thanks… it means a lot to hear that from you."
Victor's eyes softened. "You put so much of yourself into these paintings. I can see it—the details, the passion. It's inspiring."
They stood in comfortable silence, Victor's hand still resting on Milo's arm, their proximity feeling natural yet electric. Milo, gathering a bit of courage, turned slightly to look at Victor. "Do you really think it's good?"
"More than good," Victor replied, his voice low. "It's like it tells its own story… a story only you can bring to life."
Milo's heart raced at the sincerity in Victor's gaze. He wasn't used to such attention, to being seen so openly, and Victor's words made him feel both vulnerable and deeply valued.
Without thinking, Milo took a step back, breaking the contact, and picked up his brush. "I should probably get back to it… if I want to finish it soon."
Victor chuckled, nodding as he took a seat back on the couch, watching Milo work. "You know, I might have to hang this one in my office," he teased. "To remind me of the artist who made it—and that fox's wisdom."
Milo chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes. "Fine, but only if you help me finish it sometime."
Victor leaned back with a grin. "Deal."
***