Felix's POV (3rd Person)
Felix observed his prized painting carefully, eyes tracing the features of the young boy he'd long ago memorized. He figured he'd might as well paint Cryaotic a friend in that desolate world that he lived in.
"Hey Cry," Felix mumbled to the painting. It had become a habit of his. Whenever he was alone, he tended to talk to his art. "would you like someone to be with you?"
Like always, Cry did not respond. Felix sighed, starting to paint the background. But then Felix noticed the painting tilt a bit. "Cryaotic, I don't suppose you're trying to get out of there, right?" He joked, mixing in hues of black and stone gray into the painting. Then he saw the painting start to fall down. He threw aside his brush and ran up to it, catching it just as the nail that held it up fell out. Felix checked for scratches or tears, sighing in relief when he found none. Then he glared at the nail that had fallen out. "Stupid nail. You had one job, and you fail at it." Feli