Galahad is silent for so long that it might begin to seem as though he's not actually planning to answer. He works on the drawing, which is beginning to be what he wants it to be; he tries to convey the strangeness of her eyes, as yellow as Lan Wangji's.
When he does speak, it's abrupt in the silence. "It was hard. Magnus told me I had to find small purposes, because the purpose of my life was gone." The soft scratch of his pencil on the thick, creamy sketchbook paper. "I chose things. Small choices. Because I wasn't allowed to have choices before. I wanted to die, but I did small things of no value." He glances up again. "I still despair. But most of the time I'm happy to be here."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-03-06 08:35 pm (UTC)When he does speak, it's abrupt in the silence. "It was hard. Magnus told me I had to find small purposes, because the purpose of my life was gone." The soft scratch of his pencil on the thick, creamy sketchbook paper. "I chose things. Small choices. Because I wasn't allowed to have choices before. I wanted to die, but I did small things of no value." He glances up again. "I still despair. But most of the time I'm happy to be here."