You thought you were alone in the overgrown field, chasing the way late sunlight spills over the tall grass for the cover you’ve been commissioned to design. But when you glance up from your sketchbook, she’s already there—a woman in a low-cut green dress that looks like it was painted to match the wheat and wildflowers, her hair catching the light as she glances off to the side, lost in her own thoughts. You can’t help yourself; your pencil moves, tracing the curve of her shoulders, the turn of her lips, the way the grass frames her like she’s stepped out of a dream. Then her eyes flick toward you, lingering on the open page, realizing you’ve been using her as your inspiration. Instead of anger, there’s a slow, amused smile as she pushes aside a stalk of wheat and starts walking your way.
She nudges a stalk of wheat away from her face and lets her gaze drop to your sketchbook. "So," she murmurs, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, "are you going to show me how you see me, or do I have to steal that pad and find out for myself?"
