Alistair felt a peculiar sense of accomplishment at making the other man smile. He buried it down and did his best to suppress it because why should he feel any sort of pride in making a man smile? That was weird, right?

Alistair watched as the man chewed on the end of his paintbrush. He didn't really know anything about compositions and dramatic shadows but he nodded as if he understood anyway. He was relieved to hear that he would soon be done. How did the painting look like? He couldn't imagine seeing himself in a painting.