Robert cleaned the edges of the painting first. It seemed to make sense, even to Adelaide, because when she checked up on him she seemed pleased with how he'd been doing. He works meticulously, up and down each edge, until he feels like he can move on into the middle. Only, everything after the edges seemed more difficult to clean without ruining the oil painting. His large fingers felt threatening against the gentle sweeps of the oil, and he was very, very careful.
Too careful, in fact.
When Adelaide returned, she told him that he'd apparently not done a good enough job at all. It needed to be brighter, and clearer. He had to try again - and he was happy to do so, even if he was a little disheartened by her reaction. He'd thought he'd been doing so well..
But at least he was good at taking critique and trying things over and over until he got them right. That was always how he learned to do things, in any situation. This was no different.
He managed a clearer, brighter clean before he left for the day with his prize, the Fear he'd collected.
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