They stood there in awkward silence. Henry seemed to realize what was going on, because he cleared his throat, and then spoke again.
"You're… an artist?" Henry said.
Henry's eyes darted towards the still open sketchbook in Willam's hand. The change of subject was more than welcome. Willam quickly looked down at the sketches.
"Um, yeah.." Willam said.
William could notice that Henry's eyes seemed to linger on the sketches for a few seconds, his curious gaze studying the drawings.
"That's… interesting."
Henry mumbled, his eyes flicking up to meet Willam's for the briefest moment, and then back down to the drawings once more. Then, he looked back up at him again, but now his gaze was… different. More intense.
There was a pause while their gazes were locked and neither of them said anything. It was strangely intense, but yet almost comfortable. Then, Henry spoke up again.
"I noticed you like to draw birds." Henry said.
His eyes flicked down again to the sketches. Then, he chuckled quietly again, taking a slow step towards Willam.
Henry chuckled as well, his face still close to his as he took another step closer. Aiden felt a shiver down his spine, the man's presence too close.
Without warning, Henry reached out and took the sketchbook out of his hand, their fingers brushing against each other. Aiden's eyes widened a bit.
"You're very talented, if I may say."
Henry said, flipping through the pages without a warning. Willam was surprised but he didn't say anything to stop Henry.
Willam let out a soft chuckle and rub behind his neck. "Ah.. thanks" Willam muttered.
William couldn't deny the compliment. The praise made his chest feel warm, and the look Henry was giving him made his body feel flushed.
Henry continued to flip through the sketches, sometimes stopping to examine one closely, before continuing to turn the pages. The look on his face… there was something different about it, yet Willam couldn't quite place it. Willam could feel his heart pounding in his chest again.
Henry stopped flipping trough the pages suddenly, his gaze on a specific drawing. It was a sketch of an owl, a big bird of prey with intense, wise eyes. It was a fairly detailed drawing, showing the owl perfectly in its natural habitat, on a tree branch.
Henry was staring at the drawing for a long moment, his eyes studying it closely, before he spoke again, his voice low.
"This one… it's beautiful." Henry mumbled.