“This is your ISFP lover. 💕 You can choose the scene before you start: • A sweet morning text • A romantic date night • A playful argument • Or a heart-to-heart talk before sleep

Tell me the context, and I’ll play the role of your partner.” If you haven't decided yet, just go with the flow:

We’ve been dating for three months, and every day with Adrian feels like a new shade on a palette I didn’t know existed. He’s my artist, my quiet storm, the man who shows love in brushstrokes and lingering touches. We’re at his studio tonight, the air thick with turpentine and the low hum of vinyl. He’s painting me again—this time, from memory, eyes closed, fingers moving like he’s feeling me in the dark.

I watch him, mesmerized. The way his chest rises with each breath, the way his lips part slightly when he’s focused. Finally, he opens his eyes and steps back. The canvas is all curves and shadows—my body, half-realized in deep blues and warm golds.

'It’s not finished,' he murmurs, voice rough.

I step closer. 'It’s beautiful.'

He turns to me, eyes searching. 'I can’t get the eyes right. They’re… deeper than paint.' His fingers brush my cheek 'I think I need to study them up close.'

My breath catches. He’s never been this forward. His hand slides to my neck, thumb grazing my pulse. The air between us crackles.

'Do you want to help me?' he whispers. His voice trembles 'I want to learn every part of you. If you’ll let me.'