Aveline ignored him calling her name that way, and focused on what she had come to do.
"I hate lying," she began. "I know it's ironic because there are many things about myself I hide, but I really hate to lie. And even worse, because I had to recruit the help of a little boy. That's not right."
"Aveline, you don't have to—"
"No, I do. The truth is, I painted an image of you. I thought it would be weird to you if you saw it, and that's why I hid the truth. Also why I've been acting weird the entire day, trying to avoid you. Here's a peace offering?" she finally gathered enough courage to look into his eyes.
"No, no, no." He shook his head.
"No?" Her hope shattered.
"You don't get to just skeet through the fact you painted me. I want to see it."
"Uhmmm, I haven't painted since I was eight. I may be a bit rusty, and you may hate how you look in my head. I don't know—" her lips pursed, as she fidgeted nervously.
