#*sam&cason

He is very, very delicate. Not that he’d ever admit it. He doesn’t even really consider himself an artist despite the art supplies that clutter a good portion of his coffee table. It’s just something he does sometimes. 

He looks across to Cason from over the top of his canvas, narrowing his eyes like he’s trying to look annoyed, but amusement shines through. 

sam can't deny that, but his lips still twist into a pissed-off little frown. it's easier to protect yourself when you act like everybody is out to get out. better safe than sorry.

sam hesitates, studying cason like he’s expecting something else to follow, some sort of catch to the offer, but none comes. after a moment, he exhales, deflating. he suddenly doesn’t look so tough.