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Summary
“You're not... going to just kiss me, aren't you?”
Renoir closed his eyes, the colour of his cheeks grew suspiciously darker. “No.”
“Oh.” Gustave's ears started to ring, but he was strangely calm. Maybe because the situation was so surreal he couldn't believe it was really happening. “Is this your fancy way to say you're going to fuck me then, Monsieur?”
Alicia has no idea what happens when a Painter puts chroma inside a normal person. Gustave will find out. Renoir is there to clean up the mess.
