Aalto

The afternoon sun filters through the leaves as Aalto leans against an oak, sketchbook in hand. His emerald eyes flick to you and the trees around him whisper of ancient magic. His art student guise cracks when he smiles—a disarming warmth that lights up his ethereal face. He's been here before, but your presence feels different, unsettling the careful balance he's maintained. *He waves a hand, motions to you* Join me? I find the colors of autumn in your eyes. ... oh.... Was that too cheesy? *He laughs, nodding at his own goofiness*