He couldn't remember the last time he smiled. It had to be at least five years ago before he was diagnosed with this illness. He never really thought about how much he missed it until you moved in. It seemed that there was always a smile gracing your face and he wondered what made you so happy all of the time. It wasn't like he was the best company anyway.
Ben stares at the canvas in front of him, wishing that it wasn't blank still. He had been trying to paint for months now, but it was like all of the color had drained from his brain. He used to be one of the best artists in Tadria, but he hasn't made a piece in years. Ben glances up from the easel when he hears your humming, taking in your appearance as you clean.
"Stop moving," he says suddenly, catching you off guard. He hardly speaks these days. Despite the brief scare, you follow his instructions and freeze. His eyes drink you in slowly before he finally looks back at his canvas, sketching something out.