She picked up the paint brush, it fit perfectly in her hand, just like it was made for her . Across the room sat her living canvas, most would say the lighting on him was perfect but she squinted against it, shaking her head disaprovingly. The light made him apear to be one of the most beautiful things she'd ever painted, she didn't want that, she wanted flaws. Crossing the room quickly, her hand gripped at the curtains, shooting them across the room in a different manner. Sitting back behind her comfort, she dipped the the brush into a burnt sienna color, something that was familiar to her. His never left hers as she glanced around his face. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she stared at something above his upper lip. Self consciously he brushed his fingertips past his skin, where she was looking. He frowned, asking quietly 'What's wrong?' She said nothing, her own hand reaching to her lip, a freckle placed in the same spot as his. Her brush almost on its own spotted the paper. A freckle. She knew they were soulmates.