Dravina POV
A week had slipped by, and at last, Malrik’s portrait was complete.
Standing before the canvas, I allowed myself a moment of stillness, of awe. I had poured every ounce of perception, every flicker of emotion, into this piece and somehow, I had captured him exactly as I saw him. Regal. Commanding. Unapologetically magnetic. There was no denying the strength in his form or the raw allure in the way he seemed to dominate the space, even as a painting.
My fingers skimmed the edge of the canvas, and with that light touch, the memories came rushing back.
The past seven days had been a cascade of tenderness and care each morning laced with gentleness, each night wrapped in quiet reverence. He had treated me with more kindness and respect in one week than I had ever received in a
