Sylar is silent as he finishes the chicken, sucking on the end of the stick as he watches the supplies settle back into the bag.
"No. It isn't. I find that I do not often... desire that at all." He responds but his eyes are on the blank canvas. Well, blank to Matthew, but to him, it's a blurry mess of swirling colors. He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. A deep inhale of breath, then exhale, and he stands.
"I'm glad you're here to protect me. This thing is like a trance. Once it starts..." He holds out his hands, drawing both the palette and brushes to his fingers.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 06:25 am (UTC)"No. It isn't. I find that I do not often... desire that at all." He responds but his eyes are on the blank canvas. Well, blank to Matthew, but to him, it's a blurry mess of swirling colors. He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. A deep inhale of breath, then exhale, and he stands.
"I'm glad you're here to protect me. This thing is like a trance. Once it starts..." He holds out his hands, drawing both the palette and brushes to his fingers.