[ Alec hauls himself up to a sit for a better look. Without really thinking, he reaches out to take the sketchbook from Henry, though he certainly isn't offering to hand it over. It's a strange thing to see. Like, that's clearly his face, but it's not how his face is supposed to look. Serene and unguarded, rendered with such care.
It makes something in his chest twist in a way he can't decide is good or bad. His eyes lift from the page back to Henry. Weird, that he suddenly thinks of his own Shadow, the boy standing in the rain, the past stained so deeply into his skin that neither the water nor magic could move it. What was it his Shadow said? That's all you had to do. Let someone in. God dammit. ]
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It makes something in his chest twist in a way he can't decide is good or bad. His eyes lift from the page back to Henry. Weird, that he suddenly thinks of his own Shadow, the boy standing in the rain, the past stained so deeply into his skin that neither the water nor magic could move it. What was it his Shadow said? That's all you had to do. Let someone in. God dammit. ]
Yeah, well, whose fault is that?
[ He offers the sketchbook back. ]
That's pretty impressive.