"The Muse." // Kwei x reader
summary: Kwei finds out you like drawing, especially him.
tags: fluff, artist!reader
author's note: more Kwei x reader for you lads, enjoy! As always, beware of typos or spelling mistakes as english isn't my first language ^^"
You've always loved art. Long before joining Dek's clan, when you worked at a Weyland-Yutani's facility on a forgotten planet, you used to fill your days with sketches.
All you needed were a ballpoint pen and an unused notepad. Your superiors would often scold you when they found you sketching instead of working on your assigned projects, but as time passed they figured out it would be no use – and besides, they noticed your workflow greatly improved when you drew here and there, so eventually they let you do whatever you pleased.
It was more than a habit to you: it felt like a ritual, a sacred moment all for yourself that helped you forget the monotony of your days in the corporation.
Your life in the labs wasn't fulfilling: you were always told what to do and what not and since you had no interest in succeeding in your career they treated you like their average employee.
Drawing helped you feeling less alienated, at least.
When you left the facility and hopped on Dek's ship, you had little time to dedicate to art: helping out the clan was the least you could do, since they helped you escape.
And when you did find the time, you preferred not to show your ritual to anyone: you knew they wouldn't judge you (Dek and Kwei weren't exactly the art connoisseurs of the department and Thia, being a synthetic, would just over-analize everything), but you felt the need to "protect" your space.
You would fill the sketchbooks with landscapes and creatures you encountered along the way. You could probably write a whole encyclopedia and add your drawings to the descriptions.
You also had an excellent photographic memory, which helped you recall what you saw and transfer it on paper (because asking your companions to bring the skulls of their preys into your room would've been kind of strange).
You also did a coupe of portraits of your clan, but never showed them because embarrassment would eat you alive everytime.
Especially when it came to Kwei: you vowed to yourself that he was absolutely the last... person? Yautja?, that could see your drawings. The terror of all artists – if they ever found your notepad, you would burn it. Moreover, if they ever found your notepad and they saw the awkward amount of portraits you did of Kwei.
Kwei was charming, the perfect subject for an artist. His frame was broad, his lineaments strong, almost chiseled.
What you adored the most were his eyes: golden and gentle, eyes that knew mercy despite the clan he was born in, despite the harsh attitude of his father.
Your pencil would move smoothly across the paper, your gaze looking back and forth from the page to his body. It was a sunny day and the weather was warm.
Kwei and his brother were training like always and you captured every gesture the two of them did. Then, when they would stop for a break, basking in the sun, you fixated again on Kwei.
He then washed himself in a river nearby, cristal-clear drops shimmering on his skin, his muscles still tense. All for you to revere.
«What are you doing, Y/N?»
Thia's voice made you jolt, your heart skipping a beat. She was peeking from behind your back with curiosity, her eyes instantly falling on the pages of your notepad before you could press it against your chest to hide it.
«N-nothing!» your voice came out in stutters, as you tried your best to act natural. «Just... Scribbling some stuff.»
«Like, doodles?» Thia asked back. «May I see?»
That was exactly the last thing you wanted. But after all, it was just an innocent request – you didn't have to show her your Kwei sketches, anyway.
You quickly flipped the pages and picked one. It was a reproduction of a beast's skull who had bear-like features, but also grew little horns on its forehead.
«This is Dek's trophy, from the last hunt!» her eyes sparkled with excitement. «Wow, the skull is so detailed... It feels like a perfect copy!»
«It's nothing, really.» you tried to brush it off. «You synthetics could do the same.»
«Probably. But we don't need to, since we work as memory storages. That's why you humans are so amazing! Can I see more?»
At that point you were too ashamed not to let her, so you nodded while you swung slightly back and forth to forget about the nervousness.
Eventually, Thia saw them. «Is this Kwei?»
Your head sank in between your shoulders. «Yeah...»
She flipped the pages. «You draw him a lot.»
«Please don't tell him–»
«Why are you ashamed? I think they're neat! He would like them.»
At a loss for words, you muttered something Thia couldn't grasp. Then you tore the notepad away from her hands and pressed it against your chest.
Puzzled, Thia tilted her head: «Y/N, you're flushed.»
«I know!» you squealed. And after that, you urged back to the ship.
A few days passed. You still carried your notepad everywhere and from time to time Thia would peek over your sholder to watch you draw.
You kept being reserved about your hobby, especially around Kwei. Thia was fine with keeping the secret, even if sometimes she insisted that you showed your talent to the others as well, but never pressured.
One day, you were sitting in a corner of the trophy room. Rain was pouring outside and you liked the noise of raindrops falling against metal. It helped you relax and focus more on your drawings.
You thought that it would be nice to have something hot to drink in the meantime, so you left everything on the table you were sitting at and went in another room to fetch what you needed.
When you went back to the room, you found Kwei standing beside the table. And your notepad in his hands.
Your hands almost gave away and made you drop the cup of herbal tea you prepared. You opened your mouth to speak but soon realized that no sound would come out.
When Kwei noticed your frame standing still on the doorstep, his mandibles twitched with surprise as he waved at you: «Morning, Y/N.»
He tried to sound calm, as if he wasn't holding a sketchbook filled with nothing but his portraits, but you sensed tension building up in between the two of you.
Too embarassed to speak, you waited for his next move. Maybe he would just walk away and forget about what he saw – which would have been the best outcome.
Instead, to your surprise, Kwei's gaze went back to the pages and flipped them to and fro.
You swallowed the lump stuck in your throat and smiled, even if a bit awkwardly: «Is there anything wrong?»
He lifted his head to face you: «Did you make these?»
"That's it, he hates me", you thought. Then nodded in response.
A few seconds of silence passed, only interrupted by a low thunder in the distance. To you, they felt like an eternity.
You prayed to vanish in that same moment, until Kwei spoke up again: «I like them.»
Three simple words. Blunt and straint as you knew him.
You felt your cheek heating up and muttered back: «They can never compare to the Muse.»
His eyes where on you in a split second, looking at you with curiosity.
The moment you realized what you just spat out, it was already too late to take it back.
"Mind your mouth for once, would you?", a little voice poked you from the back of your head.
Seeing you all flushed, Kwei emitted a low purr that resembled a laugh: «I'll take that as a compliment.»
His laugh made you grit your teeth. God, you were head over heels for him, and it was so blatant that even the walls could notice.
You wondered if he felt the same– but you quickly tossed aside that thought.
Kwei put back the notepad on the table and closed the distance between you. As he approached, you brought the cup to your lips to hide the nervous smile forming on your face.
The yautja looked down at you, as if he was interested in something. He then reached out for one of your hands, so you thought it was best to leave the cup on a nearby shelf before you accidentally dropped it.
Your fingers were trembling, but the moment you felt his skin against yours they relaxed. You noticed how your hands were smaller than his, how perfectly they encapsulated yours, how delicate they were compared to his. After all, yours were the hands of an artist.
He leaned in and his mandibles brushed against your fingers, then all the way back to your wrist. Kwei seemed to revere that moment, losing himself in the gesture as you stood still, petrified.
You didn't dare to move. If nothing, you would wish to stay like that forever: never in your life someone made you feel appreciated like he was doing right then.
Was he aware? Was he doing so to show gratitude? You were too absorbed in the moment to ask.
You took the chance to memorize his lineaments, so perfectly carved out like a statue. To fall in love with a masterpiece was perhaps an artist's most cherished dream, and you were lucky enough to hold one in your very hands.
