You were slumped against Luz as she lazily ran her fingers through your hair, twirling the strands and working out the little knots.

You were running markers over her arms, coloring different shapes and figures. She was comforting you after a panic attack, trying to distract you from whatever had caused it.

"What's that shape?" Luz asked, pointing to a picture on her thigh you were working on. She liked being your safe place. A month ago you'd drawn a little dinosaur on her wrist and almost the next week she'd gotten it tattooed.

Your artwork was just too cute for her to let fade.