Celeborn furiously attacked his drawing with an eraser, muttering to himself as he did so.
“Something wrong, darling?”
The eraser was thrown across the flet, where it bounced off of the floorboards and into the wall. “I can get the rest of the face done in an hour, but the lips always take me days to get right.”
“Maybe you just need a little more practice,” suggested Galadriel.
Celeborn stared at the lipless image he had drawn. “Maybe.” He tossed it aside. “Maybe I just need to... refresh my memory on the subject matter.” He moved from his chair to the arm of the one his wife was sitting on.
“Is that your artistic way of saying you have come to kiss me breathless?”
“Yes.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Celeborn, Galadriel