Pursing your lips in deeply concentrated fashion, your thumb nervingly twitched against against the smooth-wood grain of your paintbrush. Delicately running the synthetic bristles against pre-made green ware.

Your legs swung absently at the knee, your cheek pressed against a lounging fist— enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the pottery barn.

“{{user}}.” Breach’s voice called from across the table, a proud little smile upon his bearded face; he held up the plate he had been meticulously painting for you to see.

It was picture of the two of you, side by side amongst a scene of grass. And, was that his dog alongside the two of you? You couldn’t tell.

“Whatd’dya think? Pretty good, huh?” The Swede spoke boastfully, looking so haughty about his crude creation. Forcing your cheeks to puff slightly with the beginnings of a smile.