(A thought about early Neathy days)
It began out of boredom, but one of Winnie's hobbies is drawing from life. She started with sketching out store inventory of her new pawnshop, intending it to be a memory aid. But then she realised just how fun it was. Soon, she even began sketching the passers-by from her lodgings' window. However, she hid her hobby from others. She was too aware of how wobbly her lines were, how imperfect her proportions. But she's having too much fun to stop, so she didn't
Silas figured out her hobby on accident while visiting the shop. He couldn't help but flip through Winnie's sketchbook when it fell open on a random page. It was unnerving how easily he hid his expressions, even without a physical mask.
"Have you drawn people just sitting for you?" he asked.
Winnie scoffed. "Are you volunteering?"
"Why, yes!" He seemed sincerely eager, although Winnie wondered if, like with many things, this too was an act.
They weren't friends yet and Winnie still found Silas grating (and he was still a thief), but she decided to humour him.
Maybe she wanted a distraction from the late Mr Appleyard's death, still so fresh in her mind
After shop hours, Silas would sit for her in the backroom of the pawnshop. While he often spoke about inane topics, giving regular updates of his rooftop garden with zero prompting, he at least had the sense to stay still.
(And unlike what the late Mr Appleyard would have done, Silas never once belittled Winnie for her skills)
With time, Winnie even chatted back. Conversations were becoming less one-sided, and Winnie's responses grew longer.
While Silas never once said a poor word of Winnie's skills (unlike what the late Mr Appleyard would have done), he always seemed... distant whenever he got a look at her drawings of him. At first, Winnie thought that Silas was silently judging her skills.
She found herself brave enough to ask, when she decided that at least one thief (this thief) was pleasant company.
And Silas, as he was (still is) prone to doing, didn't give a straight answer. But a few pointed words here and a few implications there, Winnie learned to read between the lines.
And that was how Winnie learned that Silas, for all his foppishness and vibrant fashions, barely knew what his face looked like, had been dutiful in avoiding mirrors