It wasn't surprising to learn that no one had drawn him before, not so much because of his upbringing but because, well, most people didn't do that. "I can draw or paint more if you want. With different mediums, in different styles..." It would be good practice with a great muse. She wasn't going to admit that to anybody but at the moment Jo couldn't quite imagine anyone she'd rather spend hours looking at, studying and reproducing in canvas or paper. "Then I could give them all to you. Hang them up on your walls." She suggested with laughter in her voice. She was already imagining how great his facial silhouette would look in India ink. And then with broader strokes and bold oil colors, even a bit of blur. She was looking at him now from an observing artist's stance, the way anyone with a trained eye observed something they wanted to reproduce somewhere else. Committing everything to memory even if they would be present for reference later. Jo didn't mean to, and when she caught herself she looked down at her knees so as not to make him uncomfortable.
When Sam looked up at her again Jo smiled, an expression of thankfulness and peace. All she had needed from him was confirmation that he had liked her drawing of him, and now that he had given it she would ask for nothing more. That he added very much to his statement made Jo's smile broaden, her features softening even more. Slowly Jo pulled the sketchbook from Sam's hands, scribbling something on the drawing. With one pull she ripped the sheet from the book and held the drawing out to him. "Then you can have this one. I'm sure I'll draw more eventually."