The pencil goes still over the page, Jude already stilled around it. His gaze checks over the lines, their angles, the suggestion of form in his hatching. That he doesn't answer immediately is a given, lapsing from weighted silence to something softer. Not quite ashamed of his hesitance, but acknowledging and stewing in it.

There, the shadow isn't right. Jude fills in the shading a bit more, pencil scratching in the silence following Parker's outburst, until it feels right.

The silence and the sketch.

"Nothing," he says, turning over a fresh page, starting the bench in the corner from memory so he won't have to look up yet. "Got my letter from that school, is all."