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It was not like Robert was ashamed that he liked to draw, he was just scared that someone would catch him doodling flowers and plants and consider that was all he did and find him girlish. Drawing nature was not the most manliest thing a grown boy could do, but it was necessary if he was going to make papers about the fields, never knowing if his findings would lead on to important discoveries. But, he knew how people that were not his family liked to judge others, even without an explanation. He did not want their opinions on how he went about his business, but yet here he was, hiding his work as usual.
The blooming knotweed was more than halfway finished, and blew on it a little to make the ink dry faster. He gently brushed the tiny bits of debris with his fingers, careful not to sludge his creation. The Collins tried to straighten his back so he could inspect his drawing from a regular distance, but felt something bump back into him. He stopped, slightly hunched in an awkward position, confused for a moment. He knew it wasn't the tree, and there was nothing else for him to bump into. Then what was it?
He turned around, and had to force himself not to jump; the inkwell rested on his knee, and if he moved too roughly, he would be crying over spilled ink, or a blotchy parchment and a ruined picture. Instead, he stared at the dark girl, and murmured cautiously, "Hello, miss... How long have you been watching me?" His last statement was a little pointed, and he wanted it to be obvious to her that he did not find her secret company to his fancy so far. As a second thought, his hands slid over his papers, covering what she had actually been looking at.
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