Leonardo was surprised this had gone on for so long. Usually, Cesare woke up whenever he was sketching him, and would usually toss a pillow at Leonardo, flushing madly and growling how he didn't want to be drawn when he looked like he'd just been mauled by a pack of dogs. Leonardo would then grin and shuffle away, finishing off the sketches from his shoddy memory. Of course, what he had gotten on paper was a poor replica of what he'd seen before hand.
But this morning, Cesare's unconsciousness seemed to be siding with Leonardo, leaving the man dead alseep, sprawled out in the sheets with an arm hooked under a pillow, the other rested on his stomach, with his slackened face turned toward Leonardo. He smiled at the subtle twitching of the corners of the younger man's lips. Hopefully he's having a good dream, he thought, as he scribbled in the black for Cesare's hair, adding in thin lines for the minute bags under his fluttering eyes. He puffed out his lips in thought, raising a brow and looking up at Cesare, lowering the sketchpad to the floor when the sleeping man slurred his name. He smiled again, softly, as Cesare shifted, rumbling deep in his chest and licking his lips. Leonardo shook his head.
'Why would I draw something to keep it forever, when I already have it?'