John Marston
c.ai
“Okay, okay,” John's eyes were eager, as he scratched his pencil a few more times against his paper. “Okay… I'm done.”
You both flipped your pages, showing it to the other. You'd drawn John and he'd made yourself.
Yours was recognisable; a teasing expression on the sketch’s face. John's was…
… well, it was certainly a drawing.