Humming in thought, pursing his lips as he slowly tilts his head.
"...chest or wrist, I'll let you decide."
"...chest or wrist, I'll let you decide."
Comments
"I'm your canvas."
`YA sámyy schastlívyy muzhchína na Zemlé, potomú chto u menyá yest' ty.`
Content, he pulls back, pleased with the result.
"There."
He'll need to check them out in front of a mirror.
"Can I draw something on you in return?" He reached for the pen, palm up.
He's learned a lot already in the short time he's had the dictionary since he found it, so he has no doubt the older will figure it out in no time.
Watching Wriothesley attempt to read them is amusing enough for the time being, capping the pen and~
"You gonna tell me what you drew on me before? That little symbol?"