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The clock ticked loudly in Ambrose's bedroom. Yet another night he did not get a wink of sleep. He was just simply too busy trying to finish this painting he had started. A whine escaped his throat as he fully realized that his sleeping schedule would probably not be fixed this entire summer. Refocusing back on his work, he stepped back to take it all in. [color=7FFFD4]"Hmph,"[/color] still unsatisfied with the balance of the colors. The painting itself was an assortment of flowers, pressed together. A solemn figure lingered in the background, watching from afar. Overall the painting had a lonely feeling to it, and the detail put into was a bit impressive. Yet Ambrose still felt like it wasn't good enough. Throwing his hands up in frustration, he walked out of his bedroom with a huff. It was better to take a break when he felt like he couldn't make any progress. Besides, it seems like the house was finally to stir with noise.

Thinking back, Ambrose was surprised by how smoothly their first week had gone so far. Although Ambrose went out of his way to stay out of the spotlight, he was surprised to find a few people to bond with. The young man was also lucky to have been transferred from the florist company to  one of the branches in Miami. So while his budget was small, he could afford to feed himself and purchase other basic amenities. 

Ambrose padded trough the hallway, hoping Spoons or Casimir were already up. The two were the only ones right now he felt comfortable enough to be himself without any social anxiety cropping up. Ambrose didn't think he could handle any other high-energy people before he had any coffee too. He made a beeline to the kitchen, and upon noticing the small gathering of people he became starkly aware of his disheveled appearance. Ambrose sported dark bags under his eyes, a mess of black tangled curls atop his head, a baggy sweater with several paint stains, and a pair of old sweats. Along with a sour expression etched into his features. He was only a bit comforted when he noticed Garrett plopped in the kitchen chair, in a similar state of dress. 

Ambrose offered only a grunt of a greeting and made a pot of coffee silently. He stayed out of the way of Evelyn and kept his gaze mostly pinned to the ground or his task. Once the coffee was ready, he poured himself a cup and chugged it down in a matter of seconds. It was a bit impressive actually, and by the end of it, Ambrose was already perking up a bit. He poured himself another cup and took the seat furthest from Garrett, now sipping and taking his time on this cup of black coffee. He watched Garrett and Ally from the corner of his eye, silently observing. 

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