closed thread for @emersonxcassidy continued from here
Cass' head tilted, their expression staying relatively neutral as Emerson began. Their experiences were different in childhood on surface level. They knew all about the Cassidys, mostly through gossip, and they knew the matriarch of the family wasn't exactly 'motherly'. It made sense this wouldn't connect. And for Cass...as far as they knew, their father procreated like a sponge. She wasn't there. Never had been. So they got it, Emerson's words, her almost morbid curiosity, making all the sense in the world. "Eh, depressing stuff is my bread and butter. Also best to have it in the morning, that way it's only up from here," they replied, flashing a smile of their own. Honestly it didn't bother them, that hollow feeling. They'd lived with it most days just fine. Now wasn't much different. If anything, they felt a little less alone with people like Emerson. People who kinda got it.
Hooking her arm, Cass hummed, giving the painting another once over, "I get it though. It's easy to wonder what life woulda been like, but in the end, no point in it. Unless of course, you're fixing to have pipsqueaks of your own, then..." Cass let it hang with a shrug, choosing to lead Emerson to another painting rather than continue the train of thought. "This one is more my speed," they said taking in the image of a child walking alone in the rain. the colors weren't particularly sad though, the figure tilted ever so slightly making it look content, if not a tad playful. "What about you? Yes, no maybe?"