(no subject)

Justin took perverse delight in chain smoking his way through the first pack of cigarettes. It wasn't as if he could get any -more- dead, right? And besides, he was feeling all full-of-freedom at the moment, sitting with his sketchpad on his very own bed in his very own apartment.
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(no subject)

Justin chewed on his lower lip, and flipped to a clean page in the sketchbook. The light was going from bad to worse as the sun set but he was sure he could do this quickly, he felt like he'd done it a million times before. The pencil scratched against the paper as he worked, laying lines and shades and curves down on the page.
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