Stevie giggled softly returning to that goofball of a husband she married, as she led him to the supplies she so lovingly lain out. He took a seat, facing her. Fingering first the pad then charcoals. Yep those would do nicely, for now.
"Oh baby, those french girls don't have anything on you." A dirty little smile tugged at his lips, as his fingers gathered up one of his chosen medium, and glided it down the page, not taking his eyes off of her. He didn't need to stare so intently, he could see her beauty with his eyes closed, but he also didn't have to watch his hands as they drew her either. They too knew every dip and curve by heart.