Will's gaze traveled slowly across Tessa's body, from the top of her head, past her small nose and full lips, over her delicate collar bone and the slight swell of her chest beneath the white wedding gown, then down past the frills and ribbons to her little feet in white slippers, and back up again until his dark blue eyes connected with her light gray ones. They crinkled in the corners, only slightly, as the tips of her lips pulled up in a timid smile, and a slender glove-covered finger lifted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
He leaned forward and quickly pulled the strand back out, murmuring, so low that only she could hear, "I like it better this way." Will sat back against his chair, propping his sketchbook against his left arm, right hand holding a sharpened pencil, tip poised on the rough paper. He hummed a single note low beneath his breath, his eyes taking in every inch and curve of Tessa, of the way the sunlight made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle, her hair shine. His breath nearly caught in his throat, but his voice was strong, true, and gentle. He smiled at her. "You look beautiful."
Then he began drawing, first her head and hair, then her face. He began working down, careful to capture the shadows with the side of his pencil. Every detail he could see, from the fragile blush on her cheeks to the strong set of her shoulders, he added into the drawing. And, surprisingly, Tessa never moved, her eyes trained on him the entire time. She kept her breathing measured to limit her movement; she sat perfectly still, as if she were a statue.
After what felt like days but were most certainly only a couple hours, Will exhaled with satisfaction, holding the sketchbook up and behind the sunlight that streamed in from the windows of the drawing room. He smiled despite himself, glancing back and forth between the Tessa before him and the Tessa he created. "Well?" she asked, tucking that stray hair behind her ear again. She sounded uncertain. "How does it look?"
Will lowered the notepad, setting it into his lap. He reached his arms behind her head and pulled at the pins clasping her hair back into a bun; it tumbled down upon her shoulders, framing her face. His heart constricted when he realized that this moment would be the last before she was Jem's. "Not nearly as magnificent as the original," he whispered. And she smiled, one that, he knew, was meant for Will, and no one else. Not even her future husband.