MADELINE'S POV
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The drawings are breathtaking. The soft strokes, the shadows falling just at the right spots, the highlighted sections making me look better in the drawings than in real life. I notice where he smudged with his finger to blend the pencil strokes. The detail is magnificent, tiny detail that probably took hours to perfect, and only a certain eye could catch something to small and draw it. I glance up at Atlas, his cheeks coated with a rosy taint, "You are an exceptional sketcher," I compliment, not because I need to, but because it's the truth. "Were." He corrects, his eyes hallowing out as his jaw tightens. "Probably still are, just need to loosen those stiff fingers that grip the sword too tightly." I notice his his fingers splay and curl into a ball, repeating the mov
