It's enough for Edwin that JD liked it. He wants to know the things that his brother likes, wants to like them too.
Edwin wraps a dozen or so tentacles around his Flapjack plushie to hoist it off the ground and drop it into his cart. Wherever they're going to watch, he wants his perch. He might not be able to sit like a human yet, but he can at least kind of do his own version.
"I do," he says fondly, "especially since I enjoy painting and making things so much. The fact that I can paint as I like and not harm anyone is exciting."
"Good. Good, I wanted... I hoped it would be." He knows his brother doesn't want to hurt people, and he knows their nature is... oppositional to humanity, sometimes.
"I've... thought about it." He wants to. He's nervous to try. "Plants are... kind of that way. But I just have to take care of them, and they make their own beauty."
A pause. "I guess... I just..."
He doesn't want to copy John. He doesn't want John to feel like he's stealing anything from him, or trying to. And...
He doesn't want to do something that matters and have someone compare it to what John might do, either. It's an uncomfortable contradiction, to want so much to be like his brother and want so much not to hover forever inside the outline of what John has already done.
"You should try everything," he says firmly, immediately, without a pause or a question. There's a lot of things he has anxiety about sharing but art and creation are not part of them. They're so unique! They're so different! Even if they both knit, they'll make different things! They'll like different patterns. They'll paint differently and play differently. It can just be something they share.
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Edwin wraps a dozen or so tentacles around his Flapjack plushie to hoist it off the ground and drop it into his cart. Wherever they're going to watch, he wants his perch. He might not be able to sit like a human yet, but he can at least kind of do his own version.
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"I'm not taking you away from anything else, right?"
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Then it's just a matter of heading for his room. On the way-
"Thank you for the present, by the way."
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"You like it? I know it's not-- not something you can use, but I thought maybe it would be nice for you to be able to share your paintings."
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"I need to show you my room at Arthur's sometime."
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Every allowance into John and Arthur's shared spaces feels like a present on its own.
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"Do you... do things like that? Make things?"
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A pause. "I guess... I just..."
He doesn't want to copy John. He doesn't want John to feel like he's stealing anything from him, or trying to. And...
He doesn't want to do something that matters and have someone compare it to what John might do, either. It's an uncomfortable contradiction, to want so much to be like his brother and want so much not to hover forever inside the outline of what John has already done.
"I don't know what to try."
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"Then you keep doing the things you like."
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"What-- Where should I start?" Somehow it seems less intimidating with John's blessing.
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Beat.
"If nothing does, go in alphabetical order."