It was just another Autumn afternoon. Samson and Aria were lounging on the living room, she was on the couch, reading some inconsequential novel or another, and he was gazing emptily at the canvas, trying to visualize something worthwhile to create.

"So, I have a question." Aria stood up, leaving her book on the couch, and broke the silence suddenly.

She walked over to her husband and ran her fingers over the stack of paint bottles, momentarily following the light flakes of dust that erupted from the surfaces, eyes focused on the forest green bottle, cheeks tinted in a peach colour.

"I'm all ears, honey." Samson responded, breezily.

He was dressed in a linen shirt, a bad choice for the activity at hand, despite the brown apron he had on top of it. He had some paint splatters gracing his facial features, and his eyes were not leaving his canvas.

"Can you teach me how to paint?" She asked, biting down on her lower lip.

Aria felt slightly embarrassed about asking, as if she was asking for a Renaissance master for some pointers on her stick figure. She loved to watch him do his magic, Samson was an exceptionally gifted artist and the woman absolutely adored his work, being his number one fan. She felt the need to learn a few things from her husband, it would not do having an art critic mother and a renowned artist consort if she does not even know what colour combinations gave which results.

His amused green eyes found her shy blue ones, and Samson could not stop his smile from spreading as he patted his thigh, he pulled her into his lap. The man pressed a few feather-light kisses down her exposed neck, and his arms wrapped around her midsection.

"It would be a tremendous honour, my love." He responded with a flourish and kissed her flushed cheek.

Samson felt giddy. He loved to show her new things, to teach her all about the world's secrets and being able to try and pass on his "gift" was making him feel all excited. His fingers were tingling, a massive smile on his lips as he reached for another blank canvas.

It took them some time to get over the basics, how to hold the different paintbrushes, how much pressure she should put onto the canvas and other essentials to at least not destroy the supplies.

Aria was thanking the gods above for the fact that she was such a fast and dynamic learner. She tried to keep herself focused on the canvas, listening to his voice guide her but she could not help herself but getting distracted and end up admiring him instead of listening to what he said.

The way his eyes were focused on the movements of her hand, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed together, a concentrated look on his features. It all was absolutely tantalizing to her.

Sunlight began to drench the room in a bright yellow colour as it reflected on the mirrors hung around. With the clarity, his eyes began to sparkle and God, she though, how much she loved him.

Aria tugged on his chin, ignoring the way her thumb was spreading paint all over his skin. She pressed a kiss onto his lips, trying to convey all emotion that flooded her heart.

"I love you." She breathed out, before switching her focus back onto the canvas, trying to paint something that would be correspondent to the effort he put on teaching her.

The sound of his laughter hallowed through the room, Samson pulled her closer, kissed her temple, and began admiring the way she was so very carefully moving the paintbrush across the fabric.

After the impromptu class, and as it became more of a regular thing, Samson was so proud and happy for her accomplishments that he could not stop himself from telling any willing ear all about their new experiences together, but unfortunately for him, there was a shortage of willing ears.

"I don't know how she does it. Seems as if she pours all of her emotions into her art, as if her paintings would be a mirror to her soul." A loving look graces his eyes as he tells Eliana, his closest friend outside his wife, all about Aria's beginners' artistic creations.

A groan left the marine biologist's lips as she tilted her head backwards, drowning her cup of tea in one go.

"I should be used to your gushing by now, but honestly, it's still quite gross, Samson." She said, a displeased look washed over her features, a smirk tugged on her lips as she watched his expression change.

Eliana kept on making fun of his excitement, would mock him all about it, but she was secretly loving that Samson found somebody that made him this happy, that somebody gave him something to hold onto. However, she would not be her if she was not even if a little mean about the whole thing.

As the days went by and the blonde woman dedicated herself to the new hobby, this arrangement turned into somewhat of a routine. They would sit next to each other, eyes focused on their own canvases, listening to some of his old records, not being able to hold off from kissing each other from time to time.

Samson was over the moon, he enjoyed to watch her paint, while Aria was getting better and better with the seasons that passed outside their window. In the depths of his heart, however, he felt somewhat of a childish jealousy, steaming from the fact she soon would prescind of his constant assistance.

Even still, it was the natural progression of things, something they implicitly worked towards, and so it also made him as happy as the process that has brought them here.

One day, someday, there would be other people to teach, and Samson could rest on his hopes and dreams that Aria would be here to lecture just besides him.