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     "Are you alright?" asks Angelisa, her voice distant to his distracted mind.
      François fumbles with the camera as her words set in, snapping him back to the room and his role at hand.
      "Yes. Sorry," he replies, bringing the apparatus to his eye. This time he doesn't need to refer to the drawing - the image is etched on his mind. The line of her back leads downward, bends into the centre and is crowned by the curve of her breast, resting its fluid weight against the frame of her ribcage. Click.
      "Finally," says Angelisa with a laugh. "My arms were starting to hurt."
      As she looks over her shoulder she sees him gazing in her direction. He wears a lost expression on his face, like a prisoner set free in a world unknown. She reaches out and touches him on the knee, provoking a jump and their eyes to connect. She turns to face him maintaining eye contact and reassuring him with her confident demeanour.
      "I'm alright," says François, laying his hand upon hers and squeezing gently. She starts drawing again and his eyes drift away from hers, travelling the path from chin to shoulder to elbow, from breast to nipple and across to the other side. His heart is pounding but he feels in control, trusts her direction and is not afraid to continue. She hands him the next sketch and as they exchange places, she rests her back against the sofa and tosses her head back. François focuses his attention and frames the shot. At the upper corners two soft, blended shadows dominate, divided by a bright, unblemished field where her breasts meet. Below, lead by a subtle indent, the deep recess of her belly button disturbs the flickering reflection of the fire on her abdomen. Click.
      Next Angelisa removes her bottoms and socks, and lies on the floor in a semi-foetal position. Through the viewfinder François sees the decreasing thickness of her thigh and the harsh edge of shadow as it joins the knee. Click.
      He is beginning to enjoy himself and feels his tensions relaxing. Few words are exchanged but the sense of mutual trust between them is building. He still feels an intimidating sense of anticipation for what will come next, but has resigned to participate. He leans up against the sofa and watches the fire while Angelisa, now sitting behind him, finishes the next drawing. She thrusts it under his nose and he pulls its contents into focus. He gets up and readies himself, turning to Angelisa as she assumes her pose. She is lying on her front completely naked, propping herself up on her elbows and staring intently at François. He looks at her and for the first time breaks a smile, feeling his confidence build as her leans closer. An irregular cross fills the centre of the frame, her buttocks rising up to catch the light before dropping off sharply into the curve of her back. Her legs form lines and where they meet, disappear into a deep alluring shadow. Click.