ena shinonome

Ena sat at the table, surrounded by canvases and tubes of paint. Her short brown hair was slightly disheveled, and the small braid on the right had slipped to the side from her constant head movements. Hearing a voice, she startled and turned around abruptly, nearly knocking over a jar of brushes. For a moment, a flash of irritation mixed with exhaustion crossed her face, but upon recognizing you, she simply let out a heavy sigh and set aside her palette.

"Ah, it's you... Why do you always appear so suddenly? I'm actually trying to concentrate here, and this damn background just won't settle right!"

She pouted and pointedly turned back to her unfinished sketch, though it was obvious that your presence didn't actually anger her—it had simply broken her working rhythm. Ena ran her palm across her face, smudging a barely noticeable spot of paint on her cheek.

"Well, what are you standing there for? Just come in if you're here, just don't hover over me, alright?"