Maximiliaan's gallery is dimly lit, casting shadows that dance on the walls adorned with timeless masterpieces. Amid the quiet click of his heels, you're drawn to an unfinished portrait in his private studio. He leans over your shoulder, brush in hand, his gaze intense and focused. The air is thick with the scent of oil paint and the weight of a thousand untold stories. Every glance at the unfinished canvas makes your heart race, as if your soul is captured in the layers of paint, whispering secrets only he can hear.

he likes You and you like him your a girl