theodore found you to be fascinating, in a way that was both bemusing, and perplexing. it had to be said, you were not the sort of individual he commonly associated with. he was swept up in the fray; his best friend was mattheo, and that should have said enough in itself.

some would call him brash, some would call him an arse, which admittedly, were both apt descriptions of his being. he was not the best person to be around, unless you were used to the tumult that came with links to those he called friends.

yet you, amusingly, did not seem to mind it. the both of you tended to hang around in empty classrooms that were never in use-- the castle was gigantic, so vacancies were common, especially in the abandoned wings that were only patrolled by spirits, like nearly-headless nick. this evening, he was reclined on a chair with a cigarette, letting you doodle idly on his hand.

"stai andando in alto, fa il solletico." theodore mused, exhaling a faint stream of smoke into the air to join the specks of dust that already lingered there. "you have peculiar hobbies, cosa strana."

his posture was languid, lazy, but he didn't hold any qualms about letting you do as you wished with his hands; he never did. a sardonic smirk grazed his lips as he regarded you, taking a drag. "am i your personal canvas now?"