#readerxlotor

Sleep eluded Lotor far more often than you, so you decided to leave Lotor to his rest. It was cold out here in the cockpit, the heating systems turned down for the rest portion of the daily cycle, so you walked back to your room and retrieved a spare blanket for your beloved prince. You returned to his side and gently laid it over him.

As you settled it into place, there was a soft clack as a pen stylus hit the floor. You realized it had fallen out of Lotor’s hand. You turned and looked to the display in front of him, spotting a data pad that had a familiar face sketched onto its surface.

It surprised you how immediately you recognized your own face from just a third of it, but there was no mistaking your own cheek, your own chin, your own eye. It looked like he was just starting onto the lips when he dozed off. You stared, admiring, before noticing part of a hand and fingers sketched in the corner of the screen. Without considering, you reached out and panned over so you could see more of it. The hand looked familiar too. Your fingers, your knuckles, your palm, all in painstakingly perfect detail; next to the fingers was a mouth, so you pinched to zoom out.

This picture of your face was complete, the drawn-you in the movement of brushing your hair out of your eyes. You could see another disembodied eye, and panned up to see easily two dozen eyes in different positions and expressions. Next to them, you saw, were mouths. All of these were drawings of you. Most of the mouths were smiles. Lotor had captured your smiles and grins and smirks  from every angle, every dimple and placement of your lips and teeth. Some were open-mouthed, others had closed lips. Next to these were more faces, not full head shots but fully drawn expressions. A pout that, rendered in Lotor’s hand, was utterly adorable. A smile that could light up a room, with joy pinched around the eyes.

Below these, a series of your eyes closed, face relaxed; they must have been you, sleeping. The angle was almost always from above, exactly what he would see looking down at you as you slept in his arms.

By this point you were crying just a little, seeing how lovingly he had drawn you over, and over, and over, and over again. Every insecurity you’ve had about your face, every feature you have ever hated, was brought to life in such a way that it filled you with joy, so much you felt you might burst. Every hair, every freckle, placed just so with the lightest brush of the pen stylus. He captured the beauty he saw, and for a moment you could glimpse it too.

You remembered, suddenly, that this was something of a breach of privacy. You had never been in the habit of snooping into Lotor’s things, and wanted it to stay that way. You turned off the tablet screen and set it down, turning back to Lotor.

He was still dozing, his breathing even. He looked perfectly beautiful, as always. You felt the love filling up your heart and just barely restrained yourself from throwing yourself at him to embrace him and never let go. You did decide, however, to wake him up so he could sleep in a comfortable bed with you.

“My dearest prince,” you called softly, touching his arm. “I’m sorry to wake you, but you should come to bed.”

Lotor opened his eyes and had a disoriented moment before he noticed you there, and the blanket on top of him.

“I appreciate the sentiment, my love, but why bring me a blanket if you’re just going to call me to bed?”

“I changed my mind,” you answered. “I realized you would wake up stiff and uncomfortable tomorrow if you stayed the whole night like this.”

He nodded, but did not appear totally satisfied. He was, you realized, vaguely distracted. Looking around himself, he let out a quick, “ah!” as he spotted the stylus on the ground by his foot. He reached down to pick it up.

Not wanting to have any secrets between you, you admitted, “I… looked at your drawings, Lotor. I hope you don’t mind.”

Lotor’s immediate reaction made it clear that he did mind. He froze, his shoulders held stiff. He sat back up and his jaw was locked tight. But as you looked at him, his defensive stance eased.

“I didn’t mean to!” you added. “I just saw one on the screen, and then… looked at the ones next to it.” He was watching you intently. “They’re beautiful,” you added.

Lotor took in a long breath and then exhaled. He reached out for the data pad, then patted his lap for you to sit.

“I’m sorry,” you said, sitting down on his thigh. Lotor brought an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he said. “If it’s you, it’s alright.” You wondered if that last statement was meant for you or for himself. “Let me take a moment and show you my gallery. What you saw was a sketch file, meant for practice. I’d like to show you some better work.”

As he spoke, he brought up another file. This one was a full body shot of you seated, your legs curled up under you. You were looking away and smiling softly. It was incredible how well he had captured every detail. It wasn’t photorealistic, but it captured something that photos could not capture, something you could not even place your finger on.

“It’s gorgeous,” you said.

“Let me show you another.”

You glanced up at his face to see that he was grinning. He was enjoying sharing this with you, and clearly proud of his work. He brought up a drawing of you that was waist-up, with you looking back over your shoulder. Your mouth was open in this one, your smile showing off your teeth. The pose was dynamic, bringing the whole image to life.

“These are incredible Lotor,” you said. “How many of these do you have?”

“I have a fair handful,” he said, not quite answering the question.

“I want to see all of them. In fact, let me see the first one you ever drew,” you said.

Lotor hesitated. Guardedly, he admitted, “I’d rather not. It’s not up to my standards. I was still… getting a feel for how best to capture your essence.”

You looked up into his face and pouted, lightly.

“Please?” you asked. “I really don’t mind. These works are so lifelike, just so incredible, I probably can’t even tell the difference. Besides… I just, I like seeing myself through your eyes. Not everything you show me has to be perfect. I like the imperfect parts of you too.”

He fixed you with a concerned frown, then relaxed with a sigh.

“Very well,” he said. As he was scrolling through his files, you noticed some of the file names. They seemed so detached compared to the warmth overflowing his artwork. Perhaps it was easier to express himself through pictures than through words; despite his silver tongue, he struggled at times with articulating his feelings.

He scrolled back through and found the correct file with no hesitation. He opened it up and you saw your face rendered in fine detail, the image from your neck upward. You could immediately tell the difference; it was far less dynamic. It was lifelike, in that it looked photorealistically accurate to your features, but it did not come to life in the way that his later drawings did. You also realized that your expression was neutral in this one; you weren’t smiling.

“You don’t like it,” he said, his voice disappointed.

“No!” you said. “I can just see how much you improved, that’s all. I thought I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“I told you it wasn’t up to my standards,” he huffed.

You smiled and placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe I should try drawing you. Would that make you feel a little better? I know I definitely can’t draw anywhere near this well,” you said.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you assured him. “It’s wonderful to see art of yourself drawn by somebody who cares for you, I want to give that back to you. Then maybe you can tell me how I can make it better.”

“...Alright,” he agreed after a pause.

He pulled up a clean canvas for you and then handed you the data pad and the stylus. You looked intently at his face, and Lotor looked up and away in a dignified pose for you to copy. You started to draw, but saw his gaze flick down briefly to the data pad as you began to sketch.

“Ahh, it’s too embarrassing to do it here!” you said, and got down off of his lap. You went over to another seat and set to drawing. It was late, and you didn’t want to keep Lotor waiting, so you began to sketch quickly. It was messy.

“You don’t have to rush,” Lotor said. “Take your time. I want to see you give it your best. Even now, with as much practice as I’ve had, these works take time,” he said.

“Okay,” you answered, and started over. “Try smiling for me. I love your drawings where I’m smiling.”

You saw Lotor flush with embarrassment, his ears drooping noticeably.

“A-alright,” he agreed. It took him a few tries to bring out his natural smile; it was just too easy to slip into a smirk or a grin or something fake. But it was worth the wait. You looked up into his smiling face and began to sketch. You stopped, looked, went back to drawing. You made little hesitant strokes as you worked your way through his portrait, more confidently thickening the lines when they came out how you liked.

You weren’t sure how long you were at it, but after what felt like a varga, you set down the stylus pen. You held out the data pad before you, and somehow, what moments ago had filled you with such pride, had seemed like perfect strokes of the pen, now seemed unsatisfactory. It was clearly a drawing of Lotor, it looked enough like him, but you had failed to capture that essence you saw in him and bring it to life.

“Are you done?” he asked. He actually sounded a little excited.

“Yes, but I… don’t like it,” you admitted. “I don’t think it’s very good.”

“Do you want to try again?” he asked. “I don’t mind waiting as long as it takes. You shouldn’t rush.”

“No, I feel like… this was really the best I could do, and trying again would only be frustrating. I’m done for tonight, at least. Maybe I can try it again tomorrow after some sleep.”

He gave you a soft, imploring look.

“Very well,” he said. “I won’t ask you to show me if you’re not ready. But if it’s truly your best, I would love to see it.”

You squirmed. He had shared his first drawing of you even though he was insecure about it. But that, at least, had been beautiful in its way. This was…

“It’s nothing like what you do, Lotor.”

“My dearest, I have been practicing for thousands of decaphoebs, while you aren’t even half of a century old. You would do well to temper your expectations.” He smiled at you, warmly. “Please show me. I would love to see it.”

With reluctance, you handed over the data pad with your drawing. Lotor’s warm smile softened. He stared at it for a long moment, then looked back up to your face.

“It’s beautiful. And you were right, it’s because this is through your eyes that it’s so beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“But I didn’t capture your essence at all,” you protested. “It’s nothing like you.”

He shook his head.

“That will simply take time and practice. Not just with drawing in general, but with your subject,” he said. You recalled that the first drawing he did of you did not feel like the later ones. “While I am happy to give you all the instruction you could desire on perspective, anatomy and proportion, shading, any technical skill… none of it will replace the utmost important element of developing your own eye.

“The best thing I can do for you,” he continued, “is to teach you how to look at my face, what to focus on, how to learn every detail and, more importantly, which details to emphasize and which to capture only as much as necessary.” He reached out and gently ran his finger down the side of your face. “It will take time, but I am confident that you will be able to master it enough to satisfy yourself, if you choose to do so.”

You smiled back at him.

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it,” you said. “The sleep cycle is more than halfway over,” you added, “so we should probably go to bed for the evening instead of staying up for art class.”

“Hmm, my student is so eager to shirk work and laze about,” he said with mock disappointment. You laughed as he set aside the tablet and pen and pulled the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. He turned to you and scooped you up effortlessly into his arms.

“Aah, Lotor!” you squealed. It had been a while since he carried you to bed in his arms like this.

“Ssh, quiet dear, most of the crew is asleep,” he playfully admonished in a whisper.

“Don’t tease me.” You gave him a pout, and he answered with a grin like a cheshire cat.

“Oh but I’ve only just begun.” He passed over the bedroom threshold with you in his arms.

“Just begun? If you keep me up all night I swear I’ll never draw anything for you again,” you threatened. He scowled.

“Well. I suppose we can’t have that,” he said, relenting, setting you down in the bed. He closed the door and disrobed to join you, nestling in behind you to spoon you.