#v;m

          There was a chill that hung in the air, weeping skies drizzling with a dreary gray. It clung to his clothes and skin, beading and running down a face marred by blue and black, untouched by a smile. It would be the first instance he’d entered through that side door without a loud call for at least his uncles, fumbling fingers twisting the brass knob and letting out the warmth of the hallway.           Slim figure slipped in through the crack, the door eased shut behind him, the soft click of the lock lost in the drifting voices that carried from the busier interior just beneath him. It sounded like Chris, he thought, and maybe Felix. He couldn’t hear his father among them, another unnamed voice delivering a punchline that must have been funny, because immediately he heard Christopher laugh.  Or maybe it’s not funny, the man is an idiot. 

         For a brief moment, Thomas considered skipping past the oak door just down the hall. He could dip right past, amble downstairs and see the more jovial pair. It would be easier, but something about it made him feel gritty, uncomfortable even. Bypass Father? I can’t. Mismatched eyes stared at the fogged window, out of focus as he set his jaw, teeth worrying the inside of his cheek. Yes, hi dad we’ve not spoken in several months but I’m here and vaguely purple, don’t ask. No, no that won’t sound right. Sup, pa- ... No, no not that either. Fuck. 

        Breaking from his thoughts, Thomas turned on a heel, drawing in a trembling breath just to hold as he closed the distance between where he stood to the door of Theron’s office. He tried to stride through with a false confidence, but the moment his fingertips touched the door’s handle, it left him in an instant, brows knitted in worry. He’d only opened the slab an inch, pulling it back shut to turn and rush toward the stairs, limping gait loud on the hardwood floor. 

“--’scuse me miss, but would you mind stayin’ still for just another second? no pressure, just gotta lay on some finishing touches.”

despite probably having startled the stranger by addressing her out of the blue and in such a way, he’s nothing but polite about it. he’s been hollered at by enough folks on the street and passing by for sketching them without explicit permission, and haven’t taken kindly to his insistence that it’s just not the same when someone’s purposefully posing. this woman is particularly pretty, her dignified air one to be envied by the stuffiest of the city’s women, so it’d be a shame not to try to capture it on paper!