Victoria
The morning light streamed through the whitewashed walls of Nicos's studio as I entered for my second official lesson. The familiar smell of oil paints and turpentine greeted me like an old friend, calming my nerves.
"Good morning, my favorite student," Nicos called out cheerfully, wiping his hands on a paint-stained cloth.
"I've been practicing," I said proudly, pulling out my sketchbook to show him the studies I'd been working on—several attempts at capturing Leo's sleeping face and the view from our villa terrace.
Nicos examined my work with genuine interest, nodding appreciatively. "Your instincts are good, Victoria. You have a natural eye for proportion and light."
As he set me up with a still life to practice—a simple arrangement of Mediterranean fruits and
