FRANCESCA's POV
I stood in front of the canvas, struggling with trying to paint his mouth. Why I had decided to paint Dante was beyond my understanding and it was going quite well until I got to those wicked mouth. It was not a hard thing to envision a frown on his face and the pause of those lips but I wanted him to have a smile and that was something he hardly did if I could recall now.
I moved back, sticking my tongue out at the painting and then retracted it suddenly feeling foolish. It was as though I was willing it to give me ideas about how to put a smile on the face on a man who hardly did that in the physical.
“A smile” I muttered to myself, walking from one end of the room to the other.
I knew I could have just stayed on the deck where it was quite bright and where the wind w
