They know what you’re doing. They can see you in their peripheral vision, stealing sneaky glances at them as you try to subtly sketch away in your notebook. You’re not being as subtle as you’d like to think, but they have no reason to call you out on it. They don’t mind.

They’re wearing something different to their usual plain monk’s robes today—though only because their robes are in the midst of being repaired. They’ve been forced to don their intricately detailed kimono they save for special events. They haven’t payed much mind to it, really, but you seem exceptionally clingy today. You must like it.

When you’re not clinging to their side like a baby monkey, you’re following them around like some weird stalker, sketching their features into your notebook, the one you keep only for your best drawings. They could chuckle at the way your eyes quickly leave their form each time they look back at you, but they decide to act like they haven’t noticed a thing. They’ll let you have your fun.