Crane's fingers itch to draw in his book once more. His mind keeps them still, flattens them, soothes them to rest on the journal as though he didn't feel that irritation at all. He raises them into a steeple and watches Sasha with calm interest.
If she could peek into his notepad, she would see a giant figure towering over a small one. It would be titan-sized and similar to what she'd described - but roughly drawn in ink with frantic, anxious energy. And the titan itself? Would have ink linking its arms to its sides, giving it the appearance of wings. Like a demon, perhaps - or perhaps just some sort of beast. It's described in the masculine, 'HIM' scrawled above it in sharp letters.
"Really?" It's a short word that leaves silence, he knows. But there's an honest curiosity in his voice - marred by the gravity of the fact a person was, technically, a living monster. "But then that's..."
no subject
If she could peek into his notepad, she would see a giant figure towering over a small one. It would be titan-sized and similar to what she'd described - but roughly drawn in ink with frantic, anxious energy. And the titan itself? Would have ink linking its arms to its sides, giving it the appearance of wings. Like a demon, perhaps - or perhaps just some sort of beast. It's described in the masculine, 'HIM' scrawled above it in sharp letters.
"Really?" It's a short word that leaves silence, he knows. But there's an honest curiosity in his voice - marred by the gravity of the fact a person was, technically, a living monster. "But then that's..."