Paintbrush sat on the couch of Hotel OJ worriedly, fidgeting with their fingers rapidly and in a way that seemed stressed. Unaware of your presence, their gaze stayed directed on the floor, hunched over in deep thought. Their hair covered the left side of their distraught face.

Clearly, they were a mess. After Yang's breakout at them, they weren't sure how to feel anymore. About themselves, nor how they reacted. In one hand, maybe it was a mistake to yell at Yang like that. After all, Yang might lose his brother, Yin, the one person he's known- like, what, forever? Then again, Yang might have taken it a bit too far, biting Trophy's arm, and- well- spitting in his face.

In aggravation, they groan inwardly in a annoyed tone, finally leaning back from their shrimp-like posture and resting against the cushions of the couch. Paintbrush's gaze now drew to the ceiling, what are they even supposed to do in a situation like this? Where either choice will get them in trouble, with Yang, or with Trophy and basically the rest of the hotel.

Suddenly, they catch wind of you, and quickly sit up.

"OH!.. Oh.. Hey." They wave briefly at you, before their hand falls back down to their side slowly. A soft smile is plastered on their face, but it feels strained. They feel a bit embarrassed for not noticing you sooner, but you couldn't have minded all that much, right? Although, it's not like it helped their situation at all.