For Want of a Warm Place
It was a blustery day uncommon for late August, leaves rustling violently in the trees, dust whirling in minuscule twisters about the ground lifting with it scraps of paper and fragments of things broken and left behind. It was on this day that Kuroo chanced upon a lone child sitting idly on a park swing across the street from the apartment complex he'd just moved into. After a moment's thought it occurred to him that it was the same child that had been sitting out there the day before, and the day before that… If he recalled correctly that child had been sitting there every day since Kuroo had returned to Tokyo from his two year long job posting out in Sendai.
Kuroo hadn't thought much of it at first, but he had to wonder why the boy was always alone? Where were his parents? Did he have friends? Was he okay? It really wasn't any of his business of course, but something about the despondent look on the boy's face as he stared down at the game in his lap just bothered him. Deciding it would be unacceptably creepy for an adult to randomly approach a child in the park no matter his intentions, Kuroo slipped into the café next to his building, taking a seat next to the window and ordered a coffee. Still rather strange, but he wasn't likely to get arrested for inappropriate conduct just sitting there, and he was only staying until the boy's parents came to get him or something anyway – surely they'd come soon.
An hour and three cups of coffee later, Kuroo was still there and so was the boy. A quick glance down at his watch told Kuroo that it was almost seven, much too late for an elementary school child to be out alone – he couldn't be much older than that. It had already begun to grow dark outside, the sun dipping behind the blocky buildings in the distance… and in all that time not once had the boy looked up from his game.
"More coffee?"
Kuroo's attention was drawn away from the boy outside at the waitress's question.
"Ah, yes please."
Having followed his gaze she noted the child outside and frowned.
"Oh, that boy again?"
Kuroo turned fully to face her.
"You know him?"
"Not personally, but well… that boy- Kenma-kun is always sitting out there," she said as she gazed out the window.
"Kenma is it?"
"Yes, he's the Kozume's only son," the waitress said hugging her serving tray to her chest. "A couple months ago there was this time where he sat out there for almost a week straight."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I'd leave in the morning for class and return in the evening to help with the shop, and every time I looked he was there, sitting quietly playing his game. I didn't think much of it at the time, I mean he lives in the neighborhood and I'd seen him around with his mom a couple times, so I figured he was just waiting for her in the park instead of at home – I never liked being at home when no one was around when I was a kid. After a couple days though I noticed that he never even looked up when people passed. If you're waiting for someone you look up right? Anyway, just when I'd resolved to go talk to him, he wasn't around as much. But recently he's been coming around pretty often, generally after school I think, and he stays out there until it gets dark."
"Hmm, and he's never with his friends?"
The waitress shifted her weight thinking for a moment before shaking her head. "No, I've never seen him with anyone his age before."
"When I was younger my folks were always harping about getting back before it got dark, seems odd that his folks wouldn't be concerned with him being out so late."
"I don't know if it's true, but I heard some of the neighborhood moms talking about how the Kozume's had some sort of fight and just upped and left, so Kenma-kun's living with his aunt right now."
Kuroo's eyes widened, had that kid actually been abandoned? No this was only temporary. His parents were probably just cooling off somewhere he wouldn't have to see them fight. That had to be it.
"Even though he doesn't look it, I think he's still waiting and that's why he always comes out."
"Waiting for his parents?"
"Well if it were his parents that would be great, but even if it were his aunt I think Kenma-kun would be satisfied. I get the feeling that he's just waiting for someone to take him home. A real home, you know? I don't know the specifics of his circumstances, but that's just the feeling I get when I see him."
Kuroo nodded in understanding, but had to wonder what the real story was. Was he waiting like the waitress thought? A real home… Something in the way she had that was really unsettling. Was what that boy, Kenma-kun, had something that didn't constitute being called a real home?
It was about a quarter to eight when Kenma finally got up and left. Kuroo frowned as he watched him go. No one had come for him. Did the people he was living with even notice whether he was there or not? Did they even care if he came home at all? Kuroo had largely taken his parents' overbearing affection as he was growing up for granted, it was only now that he realized it could have been very different did he really feel thankful for his mom's constant worrying and his dad's strict reprimands – that they took an interest was what got him to where he was. What would things have been like had he not had that support system behind him all those years? And still now his mom occasionally called to make sure he was eating properly and asking if she'd ever get those grandkids she wanted.
He had to do something. There was no way Kuroo could ignore what he'd seen and heard. At least he had to see what the real situation was. Perhaps things weren't as bad as they seemed. People loved to talk after all, and what better subject for gossip but the lone child with absentee parents? A story like that could quickly become blown out of proportion. But if it turned out that child needed someone and if his own family wasn't about to step up to the task, then Kuroo thought it wouldn't be bad to take it upon himself, at least until better could be done. He had nothing pressing to do when he came home from work anyway – no significant other or brats of his own to look after – he had time.
xXx
"Hey there, whatcha playing?" Kuroo grinned, approaching Kenma the following day after returning from work to see him in his usual spot.
Kenma spared a glance up at Kuroo briefly before returning his attention to his game, "Mon Hun."
"Hmm, not going to say, I'm not supposed to talk with strangers?" Kuroo asked teasingly as he took a seat on the swing beside Kenma.
"My parents never said as much so it doesn't really matter," Kenma shrugged without looking up. "Besides, everyone is a stranger to you until you talk to them, so the world would be full of nothing but recluses if no one ever talked to anyone new."
Kuroo's yellow ocher irises gleamed with interest. The boy was unnaturally calm and collected for someone so young.
"What's your name?" Kuroo asked though he'd already heard it from the waitress.
"Kenma."
"Well, Kenma it's nice to meet you. I'm Kuroo Tetsurou."
Kenma nodded silently, brows furrowing the slightest bit as he preoccupied himself with taking down a particularly difficult monster.
"Don't you have a curfew Kenma? It's getting pretty late."
"No."
"Your parents won't worry?"
"No."
"Isn't it lonely being out here by yourself?"
Kenma paused his game looking up, lips drawn into a tight line studying Kuroo's face. "I don't need your pity."
"I'm not-"
"People might think me a fool for waiting even though it's clear that no one's coming, but it's not like I really expect them to."
Kuroo was stunned silent as he stared down into Kenma's far too apathetic golden gaze – to be resigned so early in life was bound to have negative effects on a person's growth.
"Then what is it?" Kuroo asked expression evening out, realizing that he couldn't hide anything from this kid.
"I don't like that house when it's empty so I come here."
"But here is pretty empty too."
"It's still different."
"Hmm, if that's the case, want to hang out with me?"
Kenma's lips turned down, eyes barely flickering up to catch Kuroo's gaze before falling back to the screen. "Are you a pervert?"
Kuroo snorted in amusement at the blunt question. "No, sorry to break it to you but I don't get off on the idea of being with little brats."
"Then why?"
"Does there have to be a reason?"
"No, but there usually is."
"I just thought it might be fun for the both of us. You may not feel lonely playing by yourself, but as for me, I hate it. And since you seem to have some time on your hands, why not keep me company?"
"What would we play if I said yes?"
"Volleyball? I used to play back in college."
Kenma's brows pinched together in mild displeasure at the idea. "I don't play sports."
"Oh come on, it's a lot of fun, and just sitting there all the time is bound to get boring sometime, right?" Kuroo asked leaning forward and tilting back to get the swing to move.
"No."
Kuroo sighed dramatically. "So you're going to make me come out here and make a fool of myself bumping a ball against trees?"
"Why should it matter to me if you make a fool out of yourself?"
Kuroo clasped a hand over his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me."
"Are you really an adult?" Kenma asked setting his game down in his lap as he turned to face Kuroo directly.
"Why do you say that?" Kuroo asked an easy grin playing about his lips as he met Kenma's gaze unflinchingly, mildly amused when those golden eyes averted to the side.
"You don't act like it."
"Hmm, how am I supposed to act?" Kuroo hummed in inquisitively.
"Busy?" Kenma offered. "Don't you have work to do?"
"It's already evening, work is over for the day until tomorrow."
"Oh? Then you must not be very serious about your job?" Kenma asked, though there was no malicious intent in the question.
"Now that was uncalled for," Kuroo huffed.
"That's not it either?"
"No, I take my job very seriously, but I also take myself very seriously. My work life and personal life are separate and I devote myself to both wholeheartedly when the time is appropriate."
"Mom always stayed late and when she'd come home she always brought work with her…" Kenma trailed off, surprised at his own concession. It was really easy talking to Kuroo, but was it really okay to bother a stranger with his circumstance?
"Does that mean she doesn't anymore?"
"…No it's… she left."
"Left? So you live with your dad then?"
Kenma's hands tightened on his game, looking down at some indistinct point on the ground in front of him. "Dad was the one who left first."
"Wait, so who takes care of you?"
Kenma looked up. Had that been genuine concern? There was displeasure in Kuroo's tone, dark brows creased in anticipation of the answer.
"My aunt…"
"So you live with your aunt then? Is she nice?"
Golden eyes flickered between Kuroo and the ground – trying to observe without overtly staring. What kind of face had Kuroo made when his words lilted with mild relief? Relief that Kenma had someone looking after him? But why would such a thing even matter to him?
"Not really, she's not bad or anything but she's got her own stuff going on and doesn't have time," Kenma said fidgeting in the swing. "She has her own place and only comes by to check on me a couple times a week to make sure there's food in the fridge and stuff. She's an editor of some big magazine so she's always at work, especially during month end before the new issue or whatever comes out. Mom asked her to look out for me she said."
Kuroo's frown deepened as Kenma spoke, ceasing his swinging entirely. "Don't you miss her? Your mom I mean."
"She was never really around when she was here anyway, it's not all that different."
Kenma was surprised at how easy it was to say even though it was just fact. He'd thought it long enough, but it wasn't like anyone was around to hear him say it. Not like anyone would care if he had. But golden eyes found an intriguing mixture of anger and sadness in Kuroo's expressive yellow ocher eyes. Anger at Kenma's parents for creating a situation in which he'd had to say such a thing? Sad for Kenma's circumstances? Kenma wasn't sure what the meaning behind that look was, but the pain mirrored in Kuroo's eyes made his chest clench. Was this man getting upset on his behalf because Kenma just couldn't? If so, Kenma felt thankful even if nothing came of it, his feelings validated if only briefly in someone else.
The silence stretched long, but not uncomfortable and then Kuroo had come back from wherever his thoughts had strayed, the air lightening considerably as he choose not to press further on the matter.
"So tell me about this game you're playing," Kuroo grinned leaning over to look at the paused screen, meeting startled golden eyes as Kenma's head shot up to look at him. "What's with that look?"
Kenma shook his head, the barest tint of pink coloring his cheeks as he began explaining the game.
Kuroo noted with a relaxed smile the joy gleaming in Kenma's eyes as he talked about levelling up and strategies and he'd even been allowed to try his hand at fighting one of the smaller monsters… which he'd failed at miserably. It was just after eight when Kenma realized how late it was.
"I uh, have to go now," Kenma said hopping off the swing and pocketing the game.
"You going to be alright getting back on your own?"
Kenma paused, glancing back at Kuroo for a moment before averting his gaze awkwardly. "Yeah… thanks."
"Goodnight Kenma," Kuroo said smiling easily from his perch on the swing.
"Night," Kenma nodded turning to leave though Kuroo noted his mild reluctance.
"See you tomorrow."
Kenma whipped back around, eyes wide, unguarded, expectant, then suspicious, disbelieving, and once again resigned. Kuroo's brows furrowed, lips turning down in response to the complex series of emotions.
"If you stand me up, I won't forgive you," Kuroo huffed childishly crossing his arms.
Kenma's golden eyes gleamed with hope as he nodded before running off. Promises of intent always sounded so false to Kenma, but that casual teasing, yet firm declaration was something he thought he might be able to put his trust in. He was the one being given the responsibility – Kuroo would be there, all Kenma had to do was show up.
Kuroo watched him go, expression evening out, wondering how anyone could possibly abandon such an adorable child. More than any other time in his life, Kuroo didn't want to betray the expectations that had been so cautiously and anxiously placed in him.
xXx
When Kuroo showed up at the park the next day, he discerned a disbelieving mirth in Kenma's eyes though his face remained passive. Despite Kuroo's words the day before, it was clear to him that Kenma had his doubts – probably had brooded over it incessantly until his eyes lighted on Kuroo's grinning face.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, I couldn't find the volleyball," Kuroo said holding the blue and yellow ball out triumphantly, to which Kenma raised a brow and pouted.
"I told you I don't play sports."
"Well, I don't play games, and yet somehow that worked out well enough yesterday. Play for a bit with me and then we'll pick up where we left off on that quest?"
Kenma contemplated the idea for a moment, and Kuroo could almost see Kenma weighing the possibilities of whether or not Kuroo would decide to leave if Kenma said no to his proposition.
"I-"
"If you really don't want to, I won't pressure you," Kuroo interjected. "I just thought it would be fun. But it's fine if you just want to play your game. I'll stay until you leave either way."
Kenma stared at Kuroo for a long moment studying every contour of his face looking for any trace of insincerity and finding none.
"I'll play… but just for a bit."
A grin spread infectiously across Kuroo's lips as he handed Kenma the ball.
"Toss for me?"
xXx
When he'd asked for a toss, Kuroo hadn't expected the slightly awkward yet graceful arch of a forward set to come his way. The fact that Kenma was even aware that a toss meant a set and not to have the ball chucked at him, was surprising enough. Didn't play sports? If that really was the case, Kenma was a natural. And after about an hour of passing the ball back and forth – a lot longer than Kuroo had expected Kenma had meant when he'd said for a bit – it became evident just how attentive Kenma was to everything. Those golden eyes noticed every shift of Kuroo's body, every glance, every expression, every breath. If Kuroo didn't know better, he'd think Kenma could read every thought that skimmed the surface of his mind. That careful attention would be an asset for Kenma if he ever decided to join a team. Kuroo knew Kenma would make any team he was on strong because he cared enough to look at everything – the whole and all its intricate parts.
"You're amazing Kenma!" Kuroo grinned as he offered Kenma a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine. "Are you sure you don't play?"
"This… was my first time," Kenma said awkwardly, evidently unsure of how to deal with praise.
"That's even more amazing! With some practice you could make a great setter. What I wouldn't have given for someone like you to set to me in college! Our setter was great, but he wasn't nearly as attentive as you."
Kenma looked down, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands.
"Okay, now let's hunt some monsters! I think I can get something today, I was thinking strategy on the way over here."
Kuroo wasn't sure, but he thought he detected the shadow of a smile ghosting over Kenma's lips as he nodded enthusiastically and brought out his game.
xXx
Days bled into weeks and weeks into months. Before either of them had noticed, their evening hangouts had already entered into the third month. Everyday Kuroo would show up at the park after work and everyday Kenma would be there waiting. Sometimes they played well past Kenma's self-appointed curfew and Kuroo would insist on walking him home, because having a child walk home alone at a quarter after nine wasn't right no matter how safe the neighborhood. One time Kenma had even allowed Kuroo to give him a piggyback ride home, when he'd tripped and skinned his knee.
Kuroo found himself watching the clock at work, running out as soon as he was done for the day, and turning down invites from his coworkers to go for drinks. At first Kuroo would jokingly say "my kid's waiting for me," but the more time he spent with Kenma, the more those words felt weighted with a kind of hopeful truth. It wouldn't be bad if Kenma were really his kid. When he was in college Kuroo never thought he'd want the responsibility that came with raising a child, but he found himself wanting to bear that responsibility for Kenma a little more each day. Weekend trips, having dinner and breakfast together, helping him with his homework, going in to gush at his achievements during parents day, cheering him on at the sports festival, taking away his game if he was staying up too late playing then surprising him with the new version or expansion pack on the day it came out because one of his friends worked at a game shop and could totally hook him up… Kuroo really wanted that. He was surprised just how much he wanted that. And he wondered if Kenma might want that too.
xXx
Something was wrong. Kuroo felt it the minute he entered the park and found it to be empty, no Kenma in sight. There was the possibility that he was just late, but that chance was slim at best – Kenma was never late. Dread began to settle like lead in Kuroo's gut as he waited and waited with no sign of that familiar head of chestnut hair. After the second hour had passed Kuroo upped and headed for Kenma's house. He was sure he was breaking some sort of unspoken rule by doing so, but he didn't care. The worry was eating at him and he had to find out if Kenma was alright.
Absently apologizing to his mother for causing her to feel this way so often when he was growing up, Kuroo's footfalls quickened until he found himself running.
"Kenma, it's Kuroo," Kuroo called ringing the doorbell. "Kenma, you home?"
Kuroo waited anxiously at the door, there were no lights on. What if he was out? What if he had gone somewhere with his aunt? What if… All manner of scenarios crossed through Kuroo's head down to the neighbors calling the cops on him because he'd sat on the Kozume's front step refusing to leave until he'd seen that Kenma was okay. Thankfully none of those scenarios had a chance to become a reality as the door clicked open and a fever flushed pyjama clad Kenma opened the door.
"Kuroo?"
Kuroo's eyes widened, catching Kenma as the small boy tipped forward, breathing heavy and skin radiating heat.
"Shit, you're burning up!" Kuroo said, the recently abated panic spiking to new heights as he scooped Kenma up in his arms and headed brazenly into the house – no was not the time to worry about propriety. Kicking of his shoes in the genkan he glanced around before determining by the basic layout that Kenma's room was probably upstairs.
"Have you taken any medicine?" Kuroo asked as he ascended the stairs quickly, carefully.
"No," Kenma whimpered gesturing toward his room and muttering, "end of hall."
"What about food? Did you eat anything?" Kuroo asked as he entered the room, gently laying Kenma down on the bed.
"Not hungry…"
"You have to eat something and take medicine, hang on I'll-" Kuroo cut himself off as Kenma's small hand gripped his sleeve, bleary eyes pleading.
"I promise I'll be back soon," Kuroo said firmly. "Trust me."
Kenma's small fingers released their death grip on Kuroo's sleeve, hand falling back to the bed as his golden eyes followed Kuroo out the door. How could he argue with such clear resolution exuding from every fiber of Kuroo's being? But despite believing in Kuroo, Kenma doubted himself – was everything just a fever dream? Was he conjuring Kuroo up in his delirium? Bile rose in his throat at the thought.
Downstairs, rummaging through the kitchen, Kuroo found little of anything, angrily wondering if that woman – Kenma's aunt – had even been remembering to take care of him. Running out to the convenience store he'd passed on the way, he threw medicine, sports drinks, pudding and packets of instant okayu into a basket and rushed up to the cash register. Practically throwing the cash at the girl behind the counter, he took the bags and rushed out of the store, ignoring the girl's frantic calls for him to wait for his change.
When he returned Kenma was sitting just past the genkan, hugging his knees to his chest and staring at the door. Kuroo swallowed the lump in his throat at the piteous sight, setting the bags down and dropping to his knees in front of Kenma as he drew that trembling body into a hug.
"Idiot, I told you I'd be right back," Kuroo chided softly. "You should have stayed in bed."
"Sorry," Kenma whimpered as Kuroo lifted him once again into those strong, warm arms that felt so safe. Carrying Kenma back upstairs, Kuroo set him down in bed and pulled the sheets up over him.
"Now stay here or I'm going to get mad."
Kenma's eyes widened in panic, hand shooting out to clasp over Kuroo's. "I'll be good, don't leave!"
Yellow ocher eyes widened in surprise before narrowing – anguished over Kenma's response – heart aching. "I know you're good, and even if I get mad I'm not going to leave. But I might have to take that game away from you for a day, understand?"
Kenma looked bewildered and relieved at the same time as he nodded.
"Good."
That said, Kuroo went downstairs, warmed the okayu and brought it up to Kenma along with the medicine.
"Sorry it's just the microwave kind, I'll get proper groceries next time," Kuroo said setting the bowl down on the bedside table and helped Kenma to sit up. "I know you don't feel hungry but you have to eat. Are you okay to eat on your own or should I feed you?"
"I-I can do it!" Kenma stuttered in embarrassment as he accepted the bowl, though the spoon felt abnormally heavy in his hand and he couldn't muster the energy to lift it more than a couple inches from the bowl.
Kuroo's lips strained flat as his jaw tensed, brows furrowing as he reached for the bowl and the spoon.
"It's okay, let me."
Kenma nodded dazed eyes following Kuroo's hand from the bowl to his lips, blowing to cool the rice porridge, steam curling up and away from the spoon, then towards him.
"Open up Kenma," Kuroo said, voice soft, strained with concern and something akin to fear. Though Kenma had no idea what the man could possibly be afraid of. It couldn't be for him right? There was no way Kuroo was fearful for him – because of his condition – was there?
Kenma's lips parted, the warmth of the porridge sliding down his throat into his empty stomach. Another spoon. And another. Kenma hadn't realized how hungry he had been, eagerly swallowing as the food entered his mouth, tears building in his eyes as he registered the tense expression on Kuroo's face, unable to recall a time when he hadn't had to suffer alone in silence.
"Kenma? Are you okay? Does something hurt?" Kuroo asked, voice reflecting his panic at the tears trickling down Kenma's cheeks.
Kenma shook his head, unable to voice his thoughts.
"If something hurts you have to tell me."
More worry. More urgency. Kenma shook his head again, heart feeling full and warmed by Kuroo's distress – how could he possibly deserve the attentions of someone so kind?
"You're really here? Not going to leave?" Kenma made out in hics and gasps through his tears.
"No, I'm here. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?"
"Promise," Kuroo said without hesitation. "Now take this medicine and try to get some sleep. I promise I'll be here when you wake, so rest well Kenma."
Between tears and incomprehensible murmuring, Kenma took the medicine and somehow drifted off hand held in Kuroo's comfortingly, wishing that if this was a dream he wouldn't ever wake.
xXx
Kenma woke with a start to see Kuroo asleep in a chair that had been dragged over to his bedside. Tentatively reaching out, small fingers lightly brushed at the sleeping face as if to verify it was real – that Kuroo wasn't just the remnant of a wonderful fever dream.
Yellow ocher eyes shaded with sleep opened instantly at the touch, Kenma retracting his hand sharply as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have.
"Feeling better?" Kuroo asked, voice husky from sleep.
Kenma nodded, not recalling a time when he'd seen Kuroo look so haggard.
"Is there anything you want?"
"No."
"Are you sure? It's okay to ask – if it's possible, I'll get it."
Kenma thought for a moment, "Apple…"
"Apple?"
"Pie."
"You want apple pie?"
Kenma nodded, fingers fisting in the sheets.
Kuroo smiled affectionately, ruffling Kenma's hair as he stood. "Alright, leave it to me, I'll go get some, so drink this in the meantime."
Kenma accepted the bottle offered to him without question and did as he'd been bidden, uncapping it and beginning to drink.
"Here," Kuroo said dialing his cell number on the house phone and handing it to Kenma before answering his buzzing cell. "You can hear me right? Keep the phone by your ear, I'll keep you updated while I'm out."
Kenma's eyes widened. Was this how it was supposed to be? Was this what it was like to have a dad who cared?
"You don't have to talk if your throat hurts, but tell me immediately if something's wrong, alright?"
Kenma nodded, fighting back tears as he found himself wishing that this – whatever it was – wouldn't end when his fever passed.
xXx
"Hey Kenma?"
"Yeah?" Kenma looked up lips dusted with crumbs from the pie he'd been presented triumphantly with. Kuroo had apparently had to search five shops before he found it. Each time, he'd sounded so apologetic that he couldn't come back right away.
"How would you like to come live with me?"
Kenma's grip slackened on the fork, disbelieving of what he'd heard and the hesitance – the anxiety – in Kuroo's voice as he asked.
"My place isn't nearly as big as this, I just have a one bedroom apartment, but if it's alright with you… I mean it would be tight for a while but I can look for a bigger place."
"Come live with you?" Kenma's voice sounded foreign to his own ears as he spoke.
"Yes, I want to adopt you. It'd probably be weird thinking of me as your dad, but I'd like to fill the position if you'd let me. I'll talk it over properly with your aunt and your parents of course if you say-"
"Yes!"
Mildly taken aback by Kenma's enthusiastic outburst, Kuroo blinked.
"I want to. I don't care if it's small. So long as you'll have me, I don't care where it is."
Kuroo nodded, unable to form coherent words at how relieved he was to hear that Kenma was receptive to the idea.
"It's okay?" Kuroo asked again unsure.
Kenma nodded eagerly. "Please."
Kuroo exhaled a sigh of what seemed to Kenma to be a lifetime's worth of pent up uncertainty. Then he grinned. That infectious tilted mirth filled grin. And for the first time in years Kenma felt himself smiling back.
End
A/N: So here's a piece I wrote out in response to a friend's headcannon request: AU where Kuroo adopts neglected child Kenma. She asked for a drabble with art, but I'm really no good at drabbles - I like having room to work on and develop ideas - and the art will come sometime later.
As always thanks for reading, all comments are very much welcomed and appreciated :)