Aza felt a bit of affectionate relief as the easy hug and Aymeric's petty complaining. It was edging a bit more into normalcy, and he couldn't help but smile like an idiot, his tail happily curling upwards as he watched his partner bustle about. He already looked a bit more animated and less gloomy, which was fantastic. Aza purred happily.

"A painting? Ugh, c'mon, Aym," Aza groaned. Who the hell would want a picture of him on their wall? Even Aymeric would get sick of looking at his scarred as hell body every day within a month or something, "Do you really think I have the patience to sit around for hours, letting some pervy painter do me?"

...wait.

"Paint me!" he hastily corrected in an open fluster, "I meant paint. Pervy painter painting me. Yup. Unless you're the painter then you can. Um. Do me. Or paint. Or. Whatever. Yeah."