Evarista pulled the coffee cup back into her possession and took a small sip, leaving the corner of the cup in her mouth and sucking on it thoughtfully. Her unblinking eyes were directed forward, sometimes focusing on Hwyn, sometimes seeming to stare right through him. Even though she should have been excited to continue her practice, she didn't really feel like picking up the sketchbook again. The initial enthusiasm has already worn off, and in absence of any real pressure to challenge herself, the lazy aristocrat couldn't be bothered. It was like this with everything she tried. Having the attention span of a goldfish is so inconvenient, but trying to change oneself is inconvenient as well, Evarista thought with irritation as she was about to slip back into her usual melancholy. However, Hwyn's unexpected suggestion brought a flash of clarity into her drooping eyes. Putting the cup back on the saucer, she straightened her back and examined the boy across the table intently.
"Hmm...! You're... hmm."
While she didn't attempt to put it into words, she was clearly struck by his idea. The familiar haze of boredom that had begun settling over her face has all but vanished as she rose to her feet abruptly, chair scraping behind her. There was an unhealthy excitement in her eyes as she towered over the sitting boy, licking her lips deliberately with the ink-dripping brush in hand. It wasn't in vain that she asked him to bend his neck, and that's where her gaze was focused. Resting her free hand on his head, she tilted it gently again, all the way to the side, seeing the lean muscle stretch under his skin.
"Hold still."
Starting behind his ear, her finger traced the slope of his neck, down to his collarbone. The smooth texture was interrupted by the countless tiny scars earned by his life on the road. A canvas soft and coarse at the same time. Evarista's lips curled up in a smirk. Her artistic juices were flowing in full again, which wasn't necessarily a good thing, but it was too late to argue. holding her breath to steady her hand, she let the tip of the brush touch where her finger once touched, slowly tracing the same slightly curved line with a tar-like black. Drawing on paper was one thing, and this was something entirely different. The wet gloss of ink on his skin was appealing in a way a paper drawing could never be.
Evarista's brush was already raised for a second stroke. Another gently curved line, connected to the first, extended from the back of his jaw and forwards, curling into a shallow spiral in the middle of his cheek. A third line stretched from the same place, curved under his chin and hugged his throat, ending near the opposite collarbone. A small trickle of ink soiled the collar of his dress. As if by design, he wore a black dress today, so the stain was invisible, but the painter wasn't paying any attention to it anyway. She was already absorbing in drawing yet another vine, following the features of his face and stretching under his eye, over the ridge of his nose, then under the other eye, and finally ending at the entrance to his ear.
Stepping back with the brush still raised tentatively, Evarista examined her spontaneous artistry. It did look like a grove of vines. A pervasive plant, or maybe a small monster, taking up residence behind his ear and reaching out its tendrils to hug his features. The pitch-black ink contrasted starkly against his slightly rugged complexion and pale blonde hair, while seeming harmonious together with his black dress. The composition looked rather striking despite its simplicity. She didn't know why she was drawing vines like that, it just came naturally as she moved her hand. It was definitely not something she was unhappy about, however. No, this was great. With this newfound canvas, she already wanted to do so much more.
A few muffled snickers and murmurs could be heard from the side as Evarista's sudden display turned a few heads, but she hardly noticed. Deciding to take a pause and ponder about this new inspiration, she put her brush down and returned to her seat. As the final sip of coffee slid down her throat, she was already making plans on the coming purchases. There had to be ink meant for body paint for sale somewhere. Would be nice to get some different colors, too. Unfortunately, body painting was a very uncommon practice in Ravok. The only one she knew who did it was a former Myrian slave at the estate, and the man was dead now. It wasn't all that clear where she should start her search for material and guidance to turn this serendipitous discovery into something truly amazing.
Eh, that could be solved later. The ink she had was satisfactory. For now, she directed her gaze at her blonde companion, tracing the slender design on his face and paying attention to his features in a way she hadn't before. Her foggy eyes were touched by the hint of a smile as she finally commented on what she had just done.
"Hmm. I enjoy your idea. We'll definitely make something special of this."
Rising up from her chair, she silently gestured him to gather her drawing equipment and headed towards the gate, leaving her payment on the table. One of the waitresses hurried to see her off, but she dismissed her with another gesture, instead stopping at one of the guest tables on her way out. There was Yae herself seated, chatting relaxedly with some patrons. Evarista nodded politely to the unfamiliar ladies and then turned to Yae, holding her hands behind her back and putting on her most friendly wry smirk.
"Thank you for your hospitality today. It was... inspirational."
The older woman pursed her lips with a cautious playfulness, a glint of amusement in her eyes. From where she sat, she saw the girl during her unusual artistic display, and while she was hardly interested in the details, she appreciated Evarista's eccentricity, finding that the girl's visits indeed added a bit of flavor to the day. In small doses, she reminded herself.
"Oh, of course. You're welcome anytime, sweetheart. There's always more inspiration to be had."
Done with her brief exchange of pleasantries with the host, the black-haired aristocrat strode out of the gate, conveniently held open by the portier. The next destination was a bit unclear, so she just let her legs take her wherever they may, losing herself in thought.