Professor followed me out to the studio. Pollack considered coming along then changed her mind and returned to snoozing on the couch. Once in front of the easel, I let loose. I sketched Lark smiling. Painted Lark laughing. Grabbed charcoal and drew her sleeping. My muse inspired me to create one image of her after another. Eventually, I sketched her expression when she had an orgasm. Hands covered in paint and charcoal, I sat down and stared at the pictures I'd created. As Lark looked back at me from all of my creations, I accepted what I had been hiding from all morning. I was in love with Lark. The fantasy of her had transformed into the reality of loving her. She was everything I hoped for all those nights when I wished to know her. Now, I knew her and she was better than the fantasy. Lark knew how to make me feel like a man, strong and protective. She also understood how to keep my head from lodging up my arrogant ass. Her teasing made me laugh and kept me in line. I wanted my tiny fighter to smile at me always.