They have several things in common, it would seem.
When Sarah was a teenager, she was painfully awkward. She never knew how to finish conversations, which usually led to abrupt exits before it made sense to leave. She's a far cry from that teenager now. The years have blurred together, but the result is someone who isn't afraid to look a person in the eye now, for fear of what she'll see.
Embracing death meant she was, never more, afraid of the gift it has given her.
She waves back at him, a tiny smile that's meant to be encouraging. "Y'know, I'm never sure how to answer that question. What makes someone an artist?"
oh my god ilu
When Sarah was a teenager, she was painfully awkward. She never knew how to finish conversations, which usually led to abrupt exits before it made sense to leave. She's a far cry from that teenager now. The years have blurred together, but the result is someone who isn't afraid to look a person in the eye now, for fear of what she'll see.
Embracing death meant she was, never more, afraid of the gift it has given her.
She waves back at him, a tiny smile that's meant to be encouraging. "Y'know, I'm never sure how to answer that question. What makes someone an artist?"