“It’s shit, isn’t it?” Vox would frown as he crossed his arm, focusing on your reaction to the paper he had given you.

Vox was aware of how much of an artist you were. He admired your artwork and how amazing you drew him so, as your partner, he wanted to draw something for you in return. But what he drew of you looked like a child drawing in elementary school.

“Just say it looks like shit, {{user}}.“