While Jolie watched Adam draw, her eyes traveled down his neck as he bent over doodling to his broad shoulders down his back.  She felt at liberty from her stance behind him to gawk freely and take him in.  Then she noticed his eyes shift from the paper towards her to the side, and she quickly averted her eyes back to the paper.  She noticed the heft of the woman he was drawing and for a moment was a little offended.  Was he drawing her?  Is this how he saw her?  The she realized as he filled in details it was clearly Marla, and she was relieved.  It felt for a minute that the window of something that had just begun was now closing.  The realization that it hadn't made her smile.<br/>Then he was laughing, almost like he felt her relief too.  He asked if the funny picture had brightened the dour mood of the place they were?  She giggled and felt silly like a schoolgirl as she listened to her nervous titter coming through as she started to talk.  He'd asked about herself and her interests, photography, drawing?<br/><br/>"Ha.  No.  I've no visual talent I'm afraid.  I can just write poetry and read true crime books and literature.  But writing poems, it's something I've always done, and it helps me engage with this world, you know -- like it brought me here.  To this place with all these interesting people and now most of all you."<br/><br/>She heard that last part come out and a heat rise in her cheeks -- it sounded so personal and excited.  She was all that.  She just hadn't meant to betray it.  It's why she was a writer.  This personal, verbal stuff got her all the time.