[ 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.
Oh, really? [ she presses back against his lips just enough to tease at fully kissing him, eyes playful as she shifts back in his arms, giving him a reason to chase her. ] Well, I just got home. You got a head start on being naked.
[ just for a second, she leans back in, kissing him with heat behind it before pulling back again. ]
So, do you wanna let me catch up, or tear them off me yourself?
[he groans, slightly, as she shifts back in his arms, some parts genuine protest — and most parts a show of a protest. the playful grin on his mouth that he's not making much of an effort to suppress, as he follows after her, betrays him; this is a game, and he's all too happy to play it.
so he makes it count, the next time she leans in. he lets her feel just a hint of his tongue at her lips; he slides both of his hands under the hem of her shirt.
(with nothing holding onto it, the towel around his waist drops away. there's no reason for the pretense anymore.)]
It'd be faster if I helped. [eyes only on her face, watching for her reaction, he slides both hands up over her skin, until his fingers are resting just below her bra.] Don't you think?
[ her back arches underneath his touch, like a feline basking in the sun, and she smiles wider hearing the towel drop to the floor. she shivers a little as his fingertips trail up her spine, up until they reach the clasp of her bra, and heat rushes to her surface of her skin, making her flush. ]
[this isn't something he could imagine ever getting tired of — watching her, feeling her, respond to him. it's just as thrilling as it'd been the first time, just as breath-stealing, just as... he doesn't have the words.
he doesn't have the words, either, to respond to her, but he doesn't need them. his response comes in the form of pressing his lips to hers again as he pushes up her shirt, breaking only when he needs to pull it over her head and toss it to the side; it comes in the form of resuming the kiss like it'd never broken at all as his hands roam over her, and finally unclasp her bra.
there's more to do, of course, but for the moment, he lingers in this, smiling against her mouth.]
[ she grins against his mouth, hands roaming over his skin even as he works her shirt off and undoes her bra. she pulls back just enough to assist him in shrugging it off and tossing it aside, then undoes her jeans and ducks briefly to unzip and step out of her boots before reaching for his hands and guiding them to her hips, allowing him to resume his task.
he might have some trouble if he ends up letting the kisses she starts pressing along his throat and down to his collar bones distract him, though; especially once she unleashes her teeth to nip at the notch in between them. ]
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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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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.]
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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. ]
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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.
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[ 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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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[ just for a second, she leans back in, kissing him with heat behind it before pulling back again. ]
So, do you wanna let me catch up, or tear them off me yourself?
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so he makes it count, the next time she leans in. he lets her feel just a hint of his tongue at her lips; he slides both of his hands under the hem of her shirt.
(with nothing holding onto it, the towel around his waist drops away. there's no reason for the pretense anymore.)]
It'd be faster if I helped. [eyes only on her face, watching for her reaction, he slides both hands up over her skin, until his fingers are resting just below her bra.] Don't you think?
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You'd better get to work, then.
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he doesn't have the words, either, to respond to her, but he doesn't need them. his response comes in the form of pressing his lips to hers again as he pushes up her shirt, breaking only when he needs to pull it over her head and toss it to the side; it comes in the form of resuming the kiss like it'd never broken at all as his hands roam over her, and finally unclasp her bra.
there's more to do, of course, but for the moment, he lingers in this, smiling against her mouth.]
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he might have some trouble if he ends up letting the kisses she starts pressing along his throat and down to his collar bones distract him, though; especially once she unleashes her teeth to nip at the notch in between them. ]