gays love the “there was only one bed” trope because of childhood sleepovers with your best friend when you were hyper aware of another person in your bed and you cannot touch them or look at them or acknowledge them but there was just something about having the person you care about the most in this world lying next to you under the covers and you can hear them breathing and it’s calming and also alarming because what if they can hear you breathing but clearly you’re over thinking it because they’re already asleep and you’re lying perfectly still next to them, wondering what would happen if you moved just half an inch over and made contact with them and what would that feel like and can they hear your heart pounding? can they feel what you feel? do they feel it too? but you’re like, twelve and don’t have the words or emotional capability to understand what it is that you’re feeling, only that this all means something so you better keep it under lock and key and never mention it again until you grow up to be gay and discover the “there was only one bed” trope and go “holy shit”
Three months ago, I started drawing again after losing the knack many years ago. I used to do pencil portraits and I never thought I’d be able to draw like that again. For the past 4 years I’ve wanted to draw Lexa, a character that’s meant a great deal to me and now today, finally, I have managed it. Thank you, Alycia, for bringing to life a truly one of a kind character. ❤️