"what? have you never seen a grown man knitting before?” klaus asks, sparing a short glance upward. it’s a stretch to call what he’s doing knitting - sure, the needles and yarn are there, but there seems to be no end product in sight, mostly it’s all just a mess. the diner probably hadn’t been the medium’s best choice for his attempts, but it beat staying cooped up in his room. “you can sit if that’s what you’re after,” klaus says with a nod to seat opposite him, “it won’t even cost you anything.”














