Post by Onzy on Mar 23, 2011 18:21:01 GMT
Liam had settled in well. He wasn't so keen on sharing with a room mate, but he also didn't want to abuse the kindness that his uncle had shown him over the last five years. So far he hadn't even met his room mate, usually when he got up, the other male was sleeping, and he was a sleep before even seeing the male. Jesse and Nikita lay at his feet, sleeping, while Liam happily threw a couple of sketches on paper. There was so much to draw, so much beauty around him, that Liam wondered if he would ever be able to draw it all. On the paper he had so many little details that he was trying to include, that the bigger picture was far from finished. He looking out one of the windows, and drawing the view from it. What he did include though was the window pane, the little crack in the one wall, and so on. So far about a quarter of the A3 paper was actually shaded in, the rest was light pencil lines indicating outlines.
Even though he didn't talk to any stranger, so far he had met one or two people just as quiet as he was. It was reassuring, knowing that he wasn't the only one. Jesse raised his sleepy head and gave a small woof. Leaving the drawing for a moment, Liam patted the rather large dog, and a rare smile formed at his lips. Nikita took the opportunity of having some space and rolled onto her back, pushing Jesse out of the way. The placid Borzoi shuffled to the side and allowed the Shepherd her space. Liam was planning to go ride Tears later today, having given the mare some time to settle down in her new surroundings.
Putting down the pencil to hunt for a sharpener, Liam managed to knock his sketch pad to the floor. It caused a dull thud, and automatically he cringed at the sound. His whole life had been living as quiet as possible, and any noise caused him to flinch. It was the guilt feelings that accompanied it that made it worse. For some reason he felt so bad that he made a noise that Simon usually laughed and told him to chill. It wasn't as easy to relax these days as it was when he was eight. Then the only thing he had to stress about was the cut on his knee, or the amount of bruises he had.
Picking up the sketch pad and pencil, he turned his back on the entrance and resumed his drawing. His ears were tuned into any sounds around him, but he failed to notice the sound of the door opening.
