A/N: Part two yay!

A hint of blood poked at his tongue and he ceased biting at his lower lip. Her eyes were the most difficult to draw. Were they shaped like a feline's, or were they large and round. He couldn't point it out, even as she sat in front of him at the campfire, her black hair pushed back into a large, short braid. She laughed with the others, sharing stories along with Varric. She was laughing. He had never thought she could laugh, her face always drown in sorrow, confusion. Eyes drifting back to the page, he moved the thin piece of charcoal over the paper again.

"What are you drawing, Solas?" He met Elora's questioning eyes, studying them. That's how they worked.

"Nothing." Was his simple answer and he seemed to have disappointed everyone around the fire.

"C'mon, Chuckles." Varric leaned over, attempting to peer into the book. Solas stuffed the book in his bag and stood. The shadows from the tress above them hid his now red cheeks. Elora studied his face, a smile digging it's way on her lips. She knew he was hiding something. She was an elf, she could see well in the dark. Another thing he'd forgotten about her eyes.

Clearing his throat, he bowed his head slightly with a firm,"Goodnight El- Lavellan." Turning on his heel, he slipped into his tent, taking a deep breath as he ran his hand hard across his face. Flicking his wrist, he conjured a small light before sitting down with the unfinished sketch resting in his lap. He couldn't draw her smile yet, both in person and on paper.

With the muffled voices outside, he slipped into a trance, the lines becoming messy again, forming her lips into a frown. Was she always so sad?