<span style="font-size: 85%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Back at his home, Ari answered the door when the guards came by to drop off the painting. Once the papers were signed and the guards were gone, he went to his studio where he had asked for the painting to be placed. The room wasn't very clean. Ever since he'd had a brain block he hadn't really focused on keeping the place clean. Stacks of blank canvases were all over the place, boxes of all kinds of paints were open on the tables in the room, brushes were submerged in murky water. But it wasn't like a painting cared. He was an artist after all. He went to his studio, opening the curtains to the big bay windows before he looked at the painting leaning up against the opposite wall. He thought that she looked gorgeous in the lighting at the gallery, but the natural light that spilled in from inside played on different colors in the painting. It was amazing. "Too bad I can't keep you here," he said, walking towards the painting. "I finally get inspiration and it has a time limit on it." He sighed, stopping a couple feet from the painting. "I'll make the best of what I have."</div></span>