audie.

Audie lay on his back, gazed fixed on the ceiling as he drifted in his thoughts. Most of the times, anything that happened with Quentin would be full of bickering and Audie being loud—both in action and words. Now, he was silent, and not a thought passed in his mind.

“But, I'll let you go this once, just because I wanted to see the final result. Other than that, I won't hesitate to scratch your handsome face.” Untrue. Audie didn't really mean all of that. In fact, he was looking to having Quention draw him again after this.

“Why did you stop painting? You got the talent for it, though.” Quentin's painting was beautiful in his eyes—he had to admit that. The way he was drawn was pleasant to the eye. “You would have won competitions, may even become popular as well...”

— doing this for a long time. Truthfully, it ignited curiousity in him. The man he resented seem to have made him want to know more. “I never knew you could paint.” He said, crossing his arms. “The way you're mixing colors tells me that you're good at this.”

Audie's consciousness came back to him, and his eyes fluttered opened slowly. As soon as they landed on Quentin, especially on the thing that was on his hands, his eyes widened. He shot up, and shifted closer to Quentin quickly, trapping him by sitting on him.