Very Late Sunday Night, Room 206
Naminé was ... sitting.
She couldn't draw - hadn't drawn in a few days, for that matter. She had tried, but it usually ended with her setting the crayons down again without having made a stroke.
She didn't feel as though she could sleep, not just yet. Perhaps not for a while.
So Naminé hugged her knees and examined her toes and sat, with her thoughts. Thinking about the new students. Smiling about her new little sister, who was probably off living it up in some grand way. Hoping Valentine didn't mind too much that she'd been quiet again lately.
(for valentine)
She couldn't draw - hadn't drawn in a few days, for that matter. She had tried, but it usually ended with her setting the crayons down again without having made a stroke.
She didn't feel as though she could sleep, not just yet. Perhaps not for a while.
So Naminé hugged her knees and examined her toes and sat, with her thoughts. Thinking about the new students. Smiling about her new little sister, who was probably off living it up in some grand way. Hoping Valentine didn't mind too much that she'd been quiet again lately.
(for valentine)