Prompto blinks at the drawing when she slides it over, then smiles, grateful and a little sad before pulling the paper all the way over to draw a doodle of his own. He's no artist, but he ends up with three beautiful boys, one dark and spiky, one slim and refined, and one... well, he's half-Dorito, half-stick figure, and all rugged mohawk.
Prompto draws a sad Pocket Prompto off to one side, fills the space between them with stars and prison bars, and passes it back over--but then he leans over hurriedly and scrawls beneath it:]
But I'll be okay!
[And he shoots double finger-pistols at her. He's fine!]
no subject
Prompto blinks at the drawing when she slides it over, then smiles, grateful and a little sad before pulling the paper all the way over to draw a doodle of his own. He's no artist, but he ends up with three beautiful boys, one dark and spiky, one slim and refined, and one... well, he's half-Dorito, half-stick figure, and all rugged mohawk.
Prompto draws a sad Pocket Prompto off to one side, fills the space between them with stars and prison bars, and passes it back over--but then he leans over hurriedly and scrawls beneath it:]
But I'll be okay!
[And he shoots double finger-pistols at her. He's fine!]