What a roommate, openly answering about what she was drawing when drawing something so...shall we say, interesting. She didn't finish her sentence, though, so Cho wasn't certain precisely what the roomie was drawing. Until she dropped the sketchpad, at least. Cho recognized the illustration as being of the headmistress; she'd seen the woman plenty of times. But never quite like this girl was drawing her. That probably had to do with the fact that Cho had never seen the headmistress in a particularly intimate scenario, or otherwise unprofessional in any way. This drawing had her quite like nobody would ever see her in person on campus. It was worthy of a quick chuckle on Cho's part before the roommate leapt onto her sketchpad to conceal the image.
"I saw everything," Cho honestly answered. "There's no shame in art, no matter what others might say. Even if you were some weird perv, people would still probably like your art more than mine." To make her point clear, Cho opened up one of her bags - this one a red suitcase - and pulled out a framed painting. Not elaborately framed like a classy family portrait, but framed so that it wouldn't get torn or damaged. It depicted...Cho wasn't really sure what she'd drawn that time, actually. Just that she used a lot of red. A lot of red. Maybe it was a bulging set of jet-black eyes peering at the viewer from a field of bloody red, accompanied by a disturbing red smile subtly painted in so that it would gradually reveal itself as a creepy optical illusion. When Cho hung it up and took a few steps back, that was actually exactly what she saw. "See? Next to what I draw, your stuff doesn't bug me that much."