No wonder he never let me look at his painting. The first few times I tried to take a look at what he was painting, he stood right in front of me, towering me, and blocked my vision.
"I want to see what you are making." I had told him, my voice slightly whiny because I knew this was going to be a new painting, the one he made himself and not on the basis of a memory.
"You don't need to know what it is right now. I will show it to you myself when I have completed it."
"You are painting me!?" I asked him, my voice slightly squeaky since I was caught by surprise. "I... Why are you painting me?"
He narrowed his eyes, "I'm painting you because I want to. And I told you I'll show it to you when I complete the painting myself."
"Well, that's nice..." I trailed off, not knowing how to respo
