That was it, and there wasn't an escape either. Not that anyone would want to get away from something as exciting as getting oneself turned into a piece of art. Standing at the edge of the art room, I scanned the beautifully arranged supplies. The natural light awarded by the bright sun outside was enough to lighten up the room.

I watched Jake set up a blank canvas on the easel, followed by a set of charcoal pencils with varying degrees of hardness. I couldn't stop imagining that one perfect image of Jake leaning against the headboard of his bed and sketching with great concentration. He looked so intense but soft at the same time. That was the first time I had wanted to watch him the same way every single day.

I pulled out of my thoughts as Jake dragged out his drafting stool along with a couple of bar stools and pushed one towards me. He looked all enthusiastic but calm at the same time. The satisfying smile on his lips was something I had never seen before. Maybe it was the warm and comforting atmosphere of the room. But Jake sure appeared as a whole new person. Someone who wasn't being too rude or too complicated but someone who knew what was important to him and was passionate enough to put all his heart and soul into it.

"So, do you draw or paint here often?" I asked, settling on the barstool he pulled out for me. My eyes were still busy taking in the details of the room. I had already taken a sneak into the room before, but the first time mostly was self-exploratory. "It seems like no one had touched these supplies for days. Everything looks perfectly arranged. When was the last time you've been here?"

For a moment, his hands gripped the corners of the canvas tightly. "I used to paint but haven't done it in a while. Now, I only draw that too, not very often. My mom set up this room when I got my first painting displayed in an art exhibition. She was pretty excited about it, and as a gift, she created this beautiful place for me. I often come here when I miss her, or I miss myself."

Jake's eyes traversed every corner, every detail of the room, and then settled on my face. It was the first time he had paid proper attention to me in the artistic light of the room. His black orbs were heavy with unknown emotions, and I could sense the vulnerability in them. "Thank you, Amy, for giving it all back to me."

I looked at him dazedly. For a moment, I thought I heard it wrong, but no, he was thanking me. But why was he thanking me?

A long moment of silence stretched between us as I locked gazes with Jake. His charcoal eyes reflected a myriad of emotions. He finally loosened his grip on the canvas and took few slow strides towards me. His strong intoxicating scent once again heightened my senses and made me look up at him in pure amazement.

I watched him intently as he held the pencil between his lips and tilted his head to the side, observing my flushed face with soft eyes. Without saying a word, he reached out for my brown locks with both of his hands, brushing my skin in a tingling sensation in the process. He pulled up my hair very carefully, twisting it up in a bun, and then secured it up with the pencil.

The entire time my eyes never left his face, and my heart kept thudding wildly against my chest. After he was through with my hair, he cupped my face gently with both of his warm hands. He brushed my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

"Perfect," He mumbled, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. "Let's begin, shall we?"

He had already put his spell on me so, all I could do was exhale a strangled breath and nod to his words.

"Is it okay if I-" I trailed off as a sudden tremor of embarrassment surged through me. My fingers were holding the hem of Jake's shirt I wore tightly.

A throaty chuckle replaced the silence of the room. Jake shook his head and settled on his drafting stool behind the easel.

"You can keep the clothes on. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Moreover, I want to draw you in my clothes. But if you want otherwise, I don't mind that either." Jake said with a subtle smirk dancing on his lips.

"You wish," I glared at him, straightening up my back.

"I do wish that but today isn't the day," He picked up a pencil from the set and winked at me. "Now, don't distract me. Otherwise, I won't be drawing on this canvas, but your skin and certainly not with the pencil."

I froze in my seat and gulped down the anticipation building up in my mind. It took me a moment to push away the imagery of Jake's words which certainly heated my cheeks. If Jake were to use colors, he would have to apply extra redness on my face. "Just draw me, will you."

Jake shifted his attention towards my face and raised a brow, lips twitching with a suggestive smile. I suddenly became hyper-aware of my burning skin as his dark eyes landed on me and roamed slowly on whatever curves I had.

"On the canvas," I quickly added, giving him a nervous glare.

So it began, the slow torture of his charcoal eyes as he started outlining me on his canvas. For the next few hours, the only sound in the room was the rhythmic sound of a pencil scratching against the paper. It was a sight to behold, the skillful movement of his hands as he drew me and the way his dark eyes didn't leave any single detail in my body unobserved.

His face remained concentrated on whatever he was drawing on the canvas, occasionally narrowing his brows, with his lips pressed up together. He used pads of his fingers to smudge the lead, flexing his shoulder muscles unconsciously. The sight of Jake's bare torso as he sat behind the easel was something I could never get used to ever.

He was so oblivious of his effect on me as his eyes roamed over my restless body. Every time his eyes met mine, an unspoken conversation stirred between us. The temperature of the room had turned unbearably high. I gulped down a mouthful of dryness as he moved his hands deftly for the last few artistic strokes before finally setting down the pencil.

"How are you holding up there?" Jake's deep voice finally broke the silence shrouding the room. "I got a little carried away. Should have given you a break."

His eyes were still set on the canvas before him as he smudged some more with his fingers.

"I'm fine, Jacob. Can I see the drawing already?" I huffed, stepping down from the stool and walking towards him. The curiosity to see his art was almost sending me into a frenzy.

A laugh escaped his throat as he looked up at me. "Aren't you too much excited?"

"Yes, I am. It's the first time someone has drawn me. I want to see it."

I stood behind the easel while Jake's eyes once again focused on the drawing. Only this time, a gentle smile appeared on his lips, which made me even more nervous.

"Here you go," he announced, turning the easel towards me.

A gasp left my mouth as soon as my eyes fell on the drawing. My fingers itched to trace down the details of my face, which I never knew existed. The charcoal version of me, with all those delicate freckles on my skin to the subtle blush on my cheeks, everything looked perfect. And what had me the most captivated was the way he outlined my eyes, alive and sharp. I sucked in a breath as the realization dawned upon me. Jake had seen through me. He didn't just draw me- he sketched my emotions too.

"This is so amazing and beautiful," I murmured, still unable to peel my eyes off the masterpiece that he presented to me.

"It's been a while since I sat behind this easel," he said, crossing his hands across his chest. "Believe me. This portrait looks only half as amazing and beautiful as you."

His words once again set butterflies wild in my stomach. I looked up at him and couldn't stop the smile that spread on my face. His fingers were smudged black. Some of it also covered his cheeks and along the edge of his jaw.

"You have no idea how cute you look right now with all these smudges on your face," I cooed at him.

His hands automatically went up to his face trying to blot it out only to spread it some more.

I stifled a laugh and reached out for his face. "Here, let me help you."

He took a step closer to me so that my hands could finally touch his face. I let my thumb brush away the charcoal streaks from his cheeks. My heart once again picked up its speed as I delved into the smoothness of his cheeks and savored the feel of raw stubbles.

"Amy!" Jake called out, his voice deep and low. His dark orbs looked down at me with great intensity, making me pause whatever I was doing.

"Let's get you something to eat," he said and bent down to hook one of his hands behind my knees while the other encircled around my shoulder. The very next moment, the ground underneath my feet shifted as he picked me off the ground. I let out a startled squeak and curled my arms around his neck, clinging to his body.

My eyes looked back at the masterpiece created out of me for one last time before he carried me outside the art room, shutting the door behind us.