[ charles, of course, lets out an oof as if the nudge was something far more significant, grinning as he does so, before settling back to wait for junpei to get another drink — and then he just starts laughing at the part about the walls and the immediate deadpan of it being a joke.
once he focuses back on the topic, though, it's obvious that he's actually giving this whole thing some real thought, which — ] Hey, [ says charles, with his grin turning into something a touch softer, ] You don't have to solve my boredom issue for me, yeah? It's not your problem.
[ but then he pauses, and, with some hesitation, picks up the notebook again, flipping to some of the first pages. on them, there's some pencil doodles — a nearby park, some flowers, a portrait of this old lady who always gets coffee at 8:20 in the morning in the coffee shop right across from charles' flat.
they're quickly done, that much is obvious, but they're also — well, pretty damn good, even if charles would never describe them as such himself. ] I, uh, draw sometimes, [ he settles on saying. but every time he takes his pencil and prepares to draw there's a voice, rough and angry, at the back of his mind, yelling at him that art's something for girls, that the only really proper hobby is sports so he ought to focus on that, and —
yeah. well. he just doesn't pick up the pen a lot. ]
my god this thread really is like 50 shades of being messed up
once he focuses back on the topic, though, it's obvious that he's actually giving this whole thing some real thought, which — ] Hey, [ says charles, with his grin turning into something a touch softer, ] You don't have to solve my boredom issue for me, yeah? It's not your problem.
[ but then he pauses, and, with some hesitation, picks up the notebook again, flipping to some of the first pages. on them, there's some pencil doodles — a nearby park, some flowers, a portrait of this old lady who always gets coffee at 8:20 in the morning in the coffee shop right across from charles' flat.
they're quickly done, that much is obvious, but they're also — well, pretty damn good, even if charles would never describe them as such himself. ] I, uh, draw sometimes, [ he settles on saying. but every time he takes his pencil and prepares to draw there's a voice, rough and angry, at the back of his mind, yelling at him that art's something for girls, that the only really proper hobby is sports so he ought to focus on that, and —
yeah. well. he just doesn't pick up the pen a lot. ]