Chapter One

"Smile for me" he whispered, running a light leaded pencil over his sketchbook, in front of him, a boy sat on a tree stump, slender and beautiful, his hair fell perfectly framing a breathtaking face, on one side his hair was tucked behind his ear, at the artist's words the boy tillted his head slightly and gave a rare smile. The artist clutched the camera strung around his neck and in a quick motion snapped the boy's pose.

"Bartholomew...may I ask you..." the artist glanced up and continued his sketching "of course" the boy looked downward, slightly embarassed by his question "...why me?" Now the artist paused and smiled up at his model, "so you can be cherished" he replied, stepping forward to fix a strand of the boy's hair from his face. "But why...isn't there anyone else you want to cherish, you know a lot of people" the artist ran his pencil diligently over his piece, "no one else in the entire world." He said switching his gaze from the paper to the subject, in comparison. The boy fidgited uncomfortably, "hmm" he murmured in response. "Why do you ask? Did you want to stop?" The artist asked now the boy shook his head hurriedly "oh, no no...your my best friend, it's the least I could do...after...." he paused warily "you know" he added lowly.

The artist nodded his head in understanding and returned to his work. "Yes, I know..." he said halfheartedly. An uninterrupted silence hung over the overgrowth around them for what felt an eternity. It had seemed that every creature of the forest had paused to acknowledge the beautiful child among them. "lift the shirt a bit...higher" the artist spoke suddenly. The boy in front of him fidgited a cherry color sweeping over his face. He held the hem of the oversized shirt and slipped it up awkwardlly, beautiful silken legs shown dazzling in the setting sun, the dark cream hue of the shirt, that fitted more like a dress, complemented his angelic figure, the artist smiled at his ingenius choice of wardrobe, the shirt alone was a perfect piece, when he saw it he knew that was what he was looking for, and hidden in his own wardrobe nonetheless. The shirt was gracefully aged, with fluffed, overly long renaissance sleeves, The collar hug loosely, hinting one frail shoulder a bit more than the other, wonderfully tempting the imagination of any viewer, cream brass buttons lined the front all the way down to those flawless legs, legs and nothing else to hide them, no under garments, that was what the artist had called for, "A bit...higher" the artist said motioning his hand upward, Now the boy's face grew faint. "W-what if someone comes by..." he said clutching the hem of the shirt, hopelessly. Now the artist stopped sketching and placed the canvas on the ground beside him. "You are the subject of this piece, I want to show that the garment is merely a prop" he said approaching the boy and kneeling before him.

Sapphire eyes studied him warily, "but your showing this at the art fair..." the boy said looking downward timidly, the artist laid a gentle hand over the boys in a convincing effort, "yes, but the only people at those fairs are artists themselves, men who can apppreciate the value of this piece" the artist paused thinking his words through "you, I want them all to see you, as you are" The boy sighed "why me..." he asked, half to himself, "why anyone else" the artist replied smiling at the boy's worried expression, "and what if my parents were to see it?" The boy said shivering at the thought , the artist squeezed the frail hands under his and shrugged casually "you worry too much" he said smiling broadly as the boy gave a defeated sigh and slipped his hands to his sides, allowing the artist to move the garment as he wished.

The artist slid the shirt higher until all that was hidden was the necessary aspects of beauty between the boy's legs, the artist also slid the cream shirt down slightly exposing more of the feminine shoulders the shirt had framed so well "hmm, perfect" he said stepping back to overlook his changes. When he was content he returned to his sketching diligently. The boy leaned against the willow tree behind him and closed his eyes, taking in the nature around them, eventually drifting to sleep.

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