"Oh, that's easy," Bellamy said, without even having to think about it first. Why give the question any thought now when he'd been thinking about it for years already? He'd known what he wanted to do with his life since he was fifteen, though his more general ambitions had been honed to a much finer point through reading (and rereading, and rereading) The Picture of Dorian Gray.
"I want to be remembered for my art," he continued. "I want to paint a portrait that captures so much of a person's soul the painting becomes more renowned than its subject."
It occurred to him only after he'd answered to wonder why she'd asked him. It seemed strange for anyone in her position to be concerned with such high-minded ideals as eternal beauty. Maybe she'd meant something else by legacy. Preemptively a little defensive, he asked, "Why, what are you going to do? Marry someone?"
"I want to be remembered for my art," he continued. "I want to paint a portrait that captures so much of a person's soul the painting becomes more renowned than its subject."
It occurred to him only after he'd answered to wonder why she'd asked him. It seemed strange for anyone in her position to be concerned with such high-minded ideals as eternal beauty. Maybe she'd meant something else by legacy. Preemptively a little defensive, he asked, "Why, what are you going to do? Marry someone?"
