[Some people at Camilla's work would ask her: don't you feel jealous, having such a talented little sister? That thought had never crossed Camilla's mind, though. Why would she be jealous? She was proud of Relm's paintings and drawings. Every last one of them was filled with so much emotion, so much of Relm, and if she was ever lonely she could just look at some of those drawings and feel like her sister was right there with her.]
[So, she usually would take some sneak-peeks of Relm's private sketchbook whenever she could. The first time she found a page of female figures, she had assumed it was just practice work. Then, a few days later, there were three pages, then there were six, and every single one of them seemed much more focused on the breasts than anything else.]
[Poor Relm. She was itching for puberty, wasn't she? Even though she was such a lovely girl to start with. Maybe she just needed some reassuring. That was her intention, coming to her sister's door, but,]
[Oh. Were those the faintest sounds of breathing she could catch? It certainly didn't sound like painting. It makes her heartrate beat faster and she wonders if she shouldn't just listen at the door. If she stands around too long, though, Mother might be suspicious. It was better to just go in. After all, it was natural, wasn't it? To explore oneself as they got older? And she could always say she didn't hear anything and this was all an unfortunate accident.]
[Relm gets about two seconds between the knock and the door opening.]
for sketchify
[So, she usually would take some sneak-peeks of Relm's private sketchbook whenever she could. The first time she found a page of female figures, she had assumed it was just practice work. Then, a few days later, there were three pages, then there were six, and every single one of them seemed much more focused on the breasts than anything else.]
[Poor Relm. She was itching for puberty, wasn't she? Even though she was such a lovely girl to start with. Maybe she just needed some reassuring. That was her intention, coming to her sister's door, but,]
[Oh. Were those the faintest sounds of breathing she could catch? It certainly didn't sound like painting. It makes her heartrate beat faster and she wonders if she shouldn't just listen at the door. If she stands around too long, though, Mother might be suspicious. It was better to just go in. After all, it was natural, wasn't it? To explore oneself as they got older? And she could always say she didn't hear anything and this was all an unfortunate accident.]
[Relm gets about two seconds between the knock and the door opening.]
Relm, dearie, how is your painting going?