8. Rhythm of the Needle

Quill turned, expecting Hawk, but it was Lilly. She leaned against the counter, watching him with a grin.

"You should be more careful about leaving the upstairs door unlocked," she said.

Quill shrugged. "Only you and Hawk would have access anyway. Not worried you'll run off with a couple of pencils."

She grinned, glancing at his scattered supplies. "I don't know. Pretty tempting. These are some top-tier art supplies you've got lying around."

He chuckled as he sat back in his chair.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Something like that," he muttered, his fingers fidgeting with a pencil. Lilly tilted her head, studying him as she walked into his private studio behind the central area.

"Must be something in the building's ventilation system," she said, crossing her arms. "Seems like Hawk can't sleep either."

Quill didn't need to ask, but he did anyway. "How do you know?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was walking down to my studio and could hear him way before I saw him. He's in there, grunting and throwing