chapter 3

Despite the boring routine of class lectures, the students were unusually lively today due to the appearance of a student who had only just started coming to school.

During snack break, a group of students gathered around Clemence's seat, curiosity shining in their eyes.

"Oh man, who knew you were a boy all along?"

"I thought Clemence was a girl's name, lol."

"I was named after my mother," Clemence replied with a smile.

"Why did you take a whole week off?"

"I just got back from America," he answered.

"You're really pretty, like Eloise... or maybe even more!"

The last comment irritated Beatrice, who was listening to their conversation from behind at Eloise's desk. Meanwhile, Claude was fast asleep on the same desk, and Eloise sat there staring blankly at Clemence.

"Tsk, like that pretty dude could ever compare his face to yours, Eloise," Beatrice scoffed. Her voice was sharp, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her glare.

"Mhm." Eloise didn't blink. Her turquoise eyes were locked on Clemence, unmoved by Beatrice's comment. "

"He's really pretty," Eloise said, almost to herself. This made Beatrice swallow her irritation.

Claude, who'd been napping at her desk, lifted his head slowly like he'd heard something strange in a dream. His messy hair clung to his cheek as he squinted at Eloise.

"Do you like him?" he asked bluntly, no judgment in his tone, just quiet curiosity.

"Yes," Eloise answered without hesitation. "I like his face."

Claude stared at her for a second longer, expression unreadable.

"…I see," he mumbled, dropping his gaze. Without a word, he reached out and held her hand.

Beside them, Beatrice stood frozen, her usual smirk faltering. She blinked, clearly thrown off by Eloise's blunt honesty and Claude's reaction .Beatrice took a moment to process what she had just heard. Then, suddenly, she leaned in close, blocking Eloise's view of Clemence.

"You're not planning to paint him too, right?" she asked, her voice laced with both worry and jealousy.

Eloise simply looked into Beatrice's eyes and smiled. That alone was enough to answer her question.

…

After school ended, Clemence stood in front of the art room, hesitating about whether to enter or not. When he finally worked up the courage to open the door, he realized it was locked. Embarrassed, he leaned his head against it, hiding his face as a flush crept up his cheeks.

"…Great," he muttered under his breath.* Why did I even come here?*

Suddenly, the sound of keys clicking could be heard beside him. It was Eloise, leaning her body against the wall with a wide grin.

"Looking for these? No, that's not right… was it me you were looking for?" With effortless confidence, she walked past him, slipped the key into the lock, and clicked the door open.

*Since when was she here? How long? Did she see everything!?* Clemence was undergoing a mental crisis just from Eloise's sudden appearance.

Eloise entered the room while Clemence remained outside, trying to cool off and collect what remained of his composure.

"Why aren't you entering?" Eloise asked without looking back as she took out her art materials and set up the canvas.

Clemence then awkwardly entered the room and sat across from her. He watched as she prepared her materials, his eyes fixed on her calm and focused movements.

"Have you made up your mind?" she asked while squeezing different shades of paint onto her wooden palette.

"I haven't thought about it yet," he replied, a bit reluctant.

*You're too intimidating for me! I can't imagine being stared at constantly while you paint me,* Clemence silently complained in his mind.

"Is that so?" Eloise didn't seem the least bit bothered by his refusal. Without warning, she slowly raised her paintbrush and pointed it directly at Clemence.

"Then… will you be my muse?"

The sudden question and the way she said it, caught Clemence completely off guard. He choked on his breath.

*Huh!!??*

But Eloise didn't stop there.

"Will you do me the honor of carving your face upon this humble canvas? Can I use you as a model? Mind if I could do a portrait of you?" Eloise continued to bombard him with the same request, just phrased in different ways.

*Aren't they all the same thing?* Clemence couldn't believe her persistence. Thus, it didn't take long for him to give in and allow himself to become her muse.

"...Alright," he said with a sigh. His

confirmation made Eloise beamed with excitement.

As Clemence adjusted his pose for the painting, something about Eloise's attitude kept bothering him. He couldn't help but ask.

"You could've painted me without my consent, though?" he said, glancing at her.

"Are you okay with that?" Eloise replied, answering with a question instead.

"...No," Clemence muttered.

"Then that's your answer," she shrugged, staring at him intently as she prepared to paint him on her canvas.