[Dom has Theo's full attention, brows up and eyes curiously wide. He thinks Dom is poetry in motion, a sense of art that Theo himself isn't capable of. It's beautiful to witness, and he wishes he had the ability to translate what he sees into compliments he knows Dom would accept. Instead, he just watches with awe.]
I like it. I like the way you move - it makes me... makes me wanna draw.
[ There's that reluctant smirk that comes dangerously close to looking like a bashful smile on Dom's face, eyes down after he stares at Teddie in silence, hand coming up to rub over the pink fuzz. (His roots are showing; he's gonna have to bleach and dye them again.) ]
Well … bring your sketch book next time, then.
[ The closest he can get to accepting that compliment. He turns his back to Theo to see himself in the mirror and starts the real practice. ]
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I like it. I like the way you move - it makes me... makes me wanna draw.
[It inspires him.]
🎀!
Well … bring your sketch book next time, then.
[ The closest he can get to accepting that compliment. He turns his back to Theo to see himself in the mirror and starts the real practice. ]