it all happened during that one sunny day at london. the moment cyrus peeked through the blinds on his window, he already knew what he wanted to do for the whole day. the sun was shining brightly, he couldn't afford to throw this opportunity away. which explains why he actually dragged destery with him to the park by the river-- a place he grew fond of visiting. 

besides wanting to feel the nature, cyrus had other motives of being out here, under the sun. he had his colored pencils and some various types of pencils with him. he was going to sketch, that was a part of his plan, but then seeing how the tiny boy’s frame being illuminated by the sun, cyrus couldn’t help but to change his subject. and so here he was, sitting against the bed of grass, a sketchbook on his lap, while a pencil on his one hand.

a few more shadings, and he was actually done. he jutted into a pout a few seconds after, seeing how something on his sketch looked kinda odd. he sighed.

“could you stop moving for a second?” he said, before sparing the boy a glance.