[cassian thinks this over. things rarely happen here without reason — and there's no telling what evidence they'll have to show. what will be done with said evidence after the fact.
[ clary had tried giving her a lesson once, but she's not sure she possesses the kind of passion that makes artwork really beautiful. just the ability to learn skills really well. ]
the thought i had was kind of abstract. i had a friend here once who was really talented at art who tried to teach me a couple things, so my idea was you in an outline.
you kind of in profile, with your back to me, holding a towel around your waist. if it's purely for me.
[about ten minutes pass. in that intervening time, he reaches their apartment, gets crowded by the cats at the door, bends over to pet them, and walks into the kitchen to feed them, before setting his sights on the bedroom.
the photo attachment that comes is as best of an angle he can take from behind; his head is turned, so he can glance over his shoulder, and both his bare back and towel held around his waist are visible.]
[ she doesn't think much of the pause between messages, knowing he's likely on his way back home, too. her route's been slightly detoured by picking up the supplies she'll need in order to get this task accomplished (a sketchpad, some pencils, some paint; she's not sure exactly what she'll need or what she'll feel like to make it feel finished. when she exits the store to see the picture, she pauses in her tracks for a second, heat flushing her cheeks. ]
yeah.
i was kind of hoping to have you as a live model, though.
[there's a slight pause between messages, again. after that pause comes another attachment: a photo at a similar angle as the previous one, but the towel is held looser, now, draping a little lower.]
[ within about two more minutes she's coming through it, turning to twist the lock shut behind her before she heads into their bedroom, the bundle of art supplies tucked into a tote bag that hangs from her elbow as she works on getting her jacket off. the cats each get a quick kiss on the top of their heads before she heads into the bedroom and she tosses the bag to the floor before she pulls off her jacket and sets it aside. ]
Got anywhere in particular you want to pose for me?
[true to his word, cassian doesn't go to her when he hears the door open. he wants to, but he remains in the bedroom instead, waiting for her in the towel that he's still holding around his waist.
she'd said she needed to concentrate, hadn't she?
as enters the bedroom, he doesn't even turn, save for a glance over his shoulder. there's a tug, just barely visible, at the corner of his mouth.]
[ oh, it's like that, is it. well, two can play at this game.
she ducks to dig out the sketchpad and a pencil, making a show of going around him, trying to decide what's the best light to capture him in. it's late in the afternoon and the sun's starting to set, bathing him in warm light from the sun and the lamps of the room and casting his skin in a warm glow. his hair hangs slightly in his eyes and she reaches out to tuck aside a few pieces before stepping back, flipping the pad open and taking out the pencil. ]
Stay like that.
[ her intent is to just do an outline, with a few features that make it unmistakably him - the slope of his nose, the swoop of his hair, his beard, the cuts of his waist and shoulders. she's not sure if what she's doing is coming across, but it's more fun than she'd expected. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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do you want to be the subject or should i?
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for that reason:]
It can be me.
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okay.
i'll do my best to capture you. i'm not the greatest artist.
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[truthfully, he's never seen her not be skilled at much.]
I've never had the patience for it.
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[ clary had tried giving her a lesson once, but she's not sure she possesses the kind of passion that makes artwork really beautiful. just the ability to learn skills really well. ]
maybe the subject will inspire me.
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[and maybe there's a way he can help, before they try this. another pause. then:]
How would you want me?
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maybe with your shirt off.
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[one for them, and one for... them? it's a thought.]
What else would you want, if it were purely for your sake?
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the thought i had was kind of abstract. i had a friend here once who was really talented at art who tried to teach me a couple things, so my idea was you in an outline.
you kind of in profile, with your back to me, holding a towel around your waist. if it's purely for me.
[ he's sent her similar pictures before. ]
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the photo attachment that comes is as best of an angle he can take from behind; his head is turned, so he can glance over his shoulder, and both his bare back and towel held around his waist are visible.]
Is that close to what you were imagining?
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yeah.
i was kind of hoping to have you as a live model, though.
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You will.
I thought inspiration could help first.
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i'll be back in about 15.
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Any chance that gave you enough for 10?
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[ that said, she's definitely walking a little faster. ]
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i think you'd want to earn a reward for helping me out.
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[he is, in fact, not beating the tease allegations.]
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you'd better hope i'm as quick a study as you think i am.
coming upstairs now.
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[a beat.]
The door's unlocked.
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[ within about two more minutes she's coming through it, turning to twist the lock shut behind her before she heads into their bedroom, the bundle of art supplies tucked into a tote bag that hangs from her elbow as she works on getting her jacket off. the cats each get a quick kiss on the top of their heads before she heads into the bedroom and she tosses the bag to the floor before she pulls off her jacket and sets it aside. ]
Got anywhere in particular you want to pose for me?
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she'd said she needed to concentrate, hadn't she?
as enters the bedroom, he doesn't even turn, save for a glance over his shoulder. there's a tug, just barely visible, at the corner of his mouth.]
I'll let you decide what gives you inspiration.
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she ducks to dig out the sketchpad and a pencil, making a show of going around him, trying to decide what's the best light to capture him in. it's late in the afternoon and the sun's starting to set, bathing him in warm light from the sun and the lamps of the room and casting his skin in a warm glow. his hair hangs slightly in his eyes and she reaches out to tuck aside a few pieces before stepping back, flipping the pad open and taking out the pencil. ]
Stay like that.
[ her intent is to just do an outline, with a few features that make it unmistakably him - the slope of his nose, the swoop of his hair, his beard, the cuts of his waist and shoulders. she's not sure if what she's doing is coming across, but it's more fun than she'd expected. ]
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