Diana's P. O. V
After a lot of talking and convincing, I was able to put West in front of an eisle and hand him a brush. He had the privilege to use the room where some of the artists came to paint.
"What do you want me to paint you?." West asked, sitting on a wooden seat, staring at me suggestively.
"I want you to paint that." I said referring to the view of the city from the window. He nodded, opening canisters of acrylic paint pushing his hair back, smirking at the empty canvas.
At first it looked all weird and unrecognizable, it just seemed like he was making random shapes on the canvas.
"Could you sit over there, you're distracting me while I work." West said with a tad of courtesy.
"Sure." I replied, grabbing a stool and sitting by the window.
West took off his shirt and placed it on a wooden seat next to him, making my cheeks flush.