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. ]
[he nearly relents when she's close; her hands brushing the hair out of his eyes are within his reach to hold, and he could easily steal a kiss without moving his feet. but that, too, would be distracting.
so he does as he's told — stays like that.
from the way his head is turned, he has enough of a view of her to watch her work, absorbed in the task. the light filtering in from the window catches on the pencil as it moves, and settles on the curve of her cheek. she's beautiful.
[ she still doesn't know if she can be considered much of an artist, but she does like the picture that's coming out. the lines are pretty simple, but she manages to keep them fairly clean, cutting the portrait off at his waist and leaving something to the imagination - maybe it's the towel, maybe it's his pants. his face and hair have the most detail, even with some of them omitted for the sake of the style she's going for; his eyes still appearing dark and soulful even without the color or intricacies.
it's a few minutes until she finishes to her satisfaction, looking at him a final time before looking back to the drawing and smiling.
he's beautiful.
approaching, she waits til she's closer before turning the sketchpad around, letting him see her work. ]
[art isn't something he knows much about — it's never had any practical use for him — but he takes his time to evaluate, all the same, as she shows him what she's drawn. he considers every line, where it leads, what it shapes up to be; it's a gentle picture, in the end, and this, somehow, is how she sees him.
he hasn't thought of himself that way in a long time, not with a blaster in his hand and choices in front of him with outcomes that range from bad to worse.
the smile that had tugged on his mouth makes it into his eyes as he finally looks away from the drawing, and up at her.]
That's good. [more than, but that's the word he settles on, for the moment.] I was right.
[ she appreciates art, but max has always kind of known she has the ability to lean skills well and quickly. maybe something she makes could be considered objectively good, but it sort of feels hollow when she tries because of that. this is different, she likes what she's created. it feels like she's captured what she sees when she looks at him and some of how he makes her feel.
she smiles, looking up at him, eyes light and sparkling. there's a shy flush to her cheeks. ]
[how many times can a person fall in love with someone? as far as cassian is concerned, he's lost count, but taking this in, her smile, the flush to her cheeks that's almost shy, is another moment to add to this list. he's lucky that she lets him see this, and that fills him with enough warmth to at least make up for the shirt he's not currently wearing. maybe more than that.
the words to an answer don't immediately find him, so he leans in, instead, for a soft brush of lips against hers. that doesn't give him much in the way of clarity, but he can try.]
I like how you make me look. [he pulls back, eyes meeting hers.] And I like knowing what you see.
[ it isn't often that she's felt disarmed or challenged by people, and only a handful of people have brought up those feelings within her in a positive way. he keeps surprising her with the way he reacts to her, even knowing each other as well as they do at this point, he still finds ways to keep surprising her. she keeps finding new things about him to fall in love with.
she kisses back, just a light press of their mouths before he pulls back to look at her again, eyes warm and gaze tender. she smiles before leaning in to do it again. ]
I'd like to see how you see me sometime. If you'd want to show me.
[as much as he loves the sight of her, a part of him regrets pulling back even that small distance, because it means not kissing her. when she leans in to kiss him again, it's a relief; he draws her closer with his free hand, the one that's not still holding the towel around his waist, and lingers in that kiss as long as he can.
and he stays close when it ends, feeling her breath when she speaks, speaking against her mouth, in turn.]
I would. [— is what he murmurs before kissing her one more time, and there's a smile in it.] You might need to be wearing less for me to do that, though.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
no subject
[one for them, and one for... them? it's a thought.]
What else would you want, if it were purely for your sake?
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
yeah.
i was kind of hoping to have you as a live model, though.
no subject
You will.
I thought inspiration could help first.
no subject
i'll be back in about 15.
no subject
Any chance that gave you enough for 10?
no subject
[ that said, she's definitely walking a little faster. ]
no subject
no subject
i think you'd want to earn a reward for helping me out.
no subject
[he is, in fact, not beating the tease allegations.]
no subject
you'd better hope i'm as quick a study as you think i am.
coming upstairs now.
no subject
[a beat.]
The door's unlocked.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
so he does as he's told — stays like that.
from the way his head is turned, he has enough of a view of her to watch her work, absorbed in the task. the light filtering in from the window catches on the pencil as it moves, and settles on the curve of her cheek. she's beautiful.
he smiles.]
no subject
it's a few minutes until she finishes to her satisfaction, looking at him a final time before looking back to the drawing and smiling.
he's beautiful.
approaching, she waits til she's closer before turning the sketchpad around, letting him see her work. ]
no subject
he hasn't thought of himself that way in a long time, not with a blaster in his hand and choices in front of him with outcomes that range from bad to worse.
the smile that had tugged on his mouth makes it into his eyes as he finally looks away from the drawing, and up at her.]
That's good. [more than, but that's the word he settles on, for the moment.] I was right.
no subject
[ she appreciates art, but max has always kind of known she has the ability to lean skills well and quickly. maybe something she makes could be considered objectively good, but it sort of feels hollow when she tries because of that. this is different, she likes what she's created. it feels like she's captured what she sees when she looks at him and some of how he makes her feel.
she smiles, looking up at him, eyes light and sparkling. there's a shy flush to her cheeks. ]
What do you like about it?
no subject
the words to an answer don't immediately find him, so he leans in, instead, for a soft brush of lips against hers. that doesn't give him much in the way of clarity, but he can try.]
I like how you make me look. [he pulls back, eyes meeting hers.] And I like knowing what you see.
no subject
she kisses back, just a light press of their mouths before he pulls back to look at her again, eyes warm and gaze tender. she smiles before leaning in to do it again. ]
I'd like to see how you see me sometime. If you'd want to show me.
no subject
and he stays close when it ends, feeling her breath when she speaks, speaking against her mouth, in turn.]
I would. [— is what he murmurs before kissing her one more time, and there's a smile in it.] You might need to be wearing less for me to do that, though.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)