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The radio was playing a calming piece of classical music from it's corner of the room, though the (apparent) teenage girl sitting on the couch may as well have been none the wiser.
Anneli Holten had been stuck in the same position with her neck hunched forwards for the last hour; a sketchbook sat in her lap with a strange portrait of a person whose she had plucked deep from her mind. Like she always did, Anneli allowed her mind to do all the work and her unfocused eyes took in absolutely nothing from the drawing - they would continue to do so until she had finished and the thing controlling her mind would let her out of her mental cage.
She would draw what her mind forced her to, and until she completed it she would never really see it.
(And of course it was always a toss of the dice if she understood the message or not.)
Staring unblinking at the page, her hand moving rapidly over the sketch, she completely forgot that she was expecting a knock at the door.
Too focussed on what was in front of her, her short and choppy platinum hair covering some of her face and legs criss-crossed underneath her, the sound (when it did come) fell upon deaf ears as she forgot about it a second later.
The flat she sat in was moderately clean, bare of most things except the necessities and a shabby looking couch. The springs dug into her thighs no matter how many times she changed position. She had learnt to ignore it. She had been forced into uncomfortable situations since she was a child.
She should have gotten up to change out of the clothes she had slept in, but it was early in the morning and she was preoccupied.
Her head snapped up after a few minutes as she realised it was the door she was hearing, and not jusr her mind playing tricks on her.
A tug at the back of her mind made her go back to the drawing. Distractedly, she called out, "let yourself in."
The lanky figure who shut the door behind him couldn't have been more happy to see his dearest friend. "My dearest Anneli, how are you doing this fine evening?"
"It is nine in the morning," she said blankly back, too focussed to lift her gaze from the paper.
Klaus grinned.
"Lovely as ever, I see," he approached and flopped down on the other side of the couch, sprawling his limbs out to take up most of the space.
She wordlessly readjusted, turning her body away so that he could not see her drawing as she brought her knees up.
