“Sweettalker. Close your eyes,” Liam ordered and Milo obeyed immediately without even a second of hesitation. Foil rustled and paper ripped before Liam’s soft hand started guiding his own until he grabbed something. “You can open them now.”
Milo slowly opened his eyes. In his hands, he held a wooden frame with a stiff canvas. Around him, there were more things on the blanket. A drawing bloc with professional, thick pages, two sets of pencils, coals, and paints, and other randomly situated rubbers, sharpeners, and liners.
“I thought you might start drawing this weekend. Maybe begin creating a portfolio,” Liam explained, feeling energized by the idea. “If you need anything else, we can go to the store. It had so many options, but I don’t know so I asked for help and they started throwing all these professional terms and it was so confusing.”
“It’s perfect,” Milo interrupted him.
“I’m glad you like it.” Liam beamed. “Let’s get home now. I’m freezing.”