Note: Soul Eater does not belong to me, it belongs to Atsushi Okubo. Rated T for mild language. This was a fill for a "Paint Me" prompt I got for Kid and Liz. If that does not suit your taste, this is not the fic for you. If it is, please, enjoy!
"Elizabeth, what in the hell did you do to your eyebrows?"
"Shut up Kid. Andi wanted to play makeup.. she went a little overboard." Andromeda, Tsubaki's little girl, eight years old and already far more devious than her father had been at the age.
"Why in the world do you subject yourself to these things Liz, really?"
"She's just such a sweet kid and so cute, and she reminds me of Patti a little so I don't know how to say no to her. It's getting to be a problem…"
"Obviously."
"Shut up Kid. Anyway, I'm going to go try to fix these things someho-"
"No. I will."
"Kid, no way in hell. I don't need a blueprint to fix my eyebrows I can do it just fine on my own."
"Elizabeth, please? My art skills have improved, it won't take so long I promise."
"You're the god of death, don't you have anything better to do, like saving the world from chaos or something?" One of her uneven brows twitches in irritation as she pinches the bridge of her nose.
"You and I both know things have been slow around here…"
"You sound disappointed. Want Patti and me to go raise some hell in Brooklyn so you have something to do?"
"I'd rather fix those abominations on your forehead honestly, lovely offer though, really I'm touched." He smirks, and her face flushes. She knows that this is going to turn into a gigantic production, but what the hell, he's right, things have been slow, and if it means she gets some time to spend with her meister, she'll deal with some ridiculousness.
"Fine. Whatever. Do your worst, I don't care," she mutters darkly, arms crossed over her torso and eyes cast to the side. He claps his hands together, and with a smug grin on his face leads her to the most comfortable chair he can find, sitting her down in it and placing himself across from her on a bench in the center of the room, a pen and pad of paper in his hands. Liz takes notice of the pen, and the significance of the permanence of ink is not lost on her. He's far better than he used to be, more sure of himself and less prone to mistakes, and she really is quite proud..
"Okay, face me directly please? Oh for the love of- Sit up straight Liz, do you want lopsided eyebrows?"
Well. He's a little better..?
She instead leans further into the chair, trying to get comfortable in a position that would be aesthetically pleasing, lord help her. She closes her eyes and sighs quietly, sinking further into the cushions, surprised that Kid makes no attempt to disturb her.
She's startled awake by a disgruntled curse maybe two hours later, judging by the way the shadows on the walls have shifted, and quickly feels the guilt coming on because she had wanted to spend time with Kid, but ended up snoring the day away instead.
"Damnit, why is hair so difficult to draw…" Kid mutters, his hand curving over his sketch pad delicately, pressure light and quick. He doesn't know that Liz had awoken, she knows, so instead of alarming him, she just nestles back into her chair. Maybe tomorrow, after some rest, they could spend time together…
When she awakens once more, night has fallen, and she's covered in a silken black blanket, Kid nowhere to be found, though his sketch pad remains on the bench, pen nearly emptied of it's ink. She knows that it's childish, but she just wants to see what he's done, how meticulously he drew her, giving her the symmetry she's sure isn't actually there.
What she finds almost knocks her on her ass, it surprises her so much.
It's a gorgeous drawing of her, sleeping peacefully, head tilted to the side so her profile shows. There's a slight curve to her lips, as if she's dreaming of something pleasant, and her hair is mussed and full of static. Her collarbones protrude slightly, and her throat curves elegantly.
In the entire drawing, she cannot find one instance of symmetry. Everything is crooked and off kilter, but she can tell from the delicate lines that he put so much thought into this, every detail and curve. He made an effort to be imperfect. He wanted her this way.
"Oh, you're awake. Sleep wel-"
"Kid.." she whispers, shoulders shaking slightly, and he freezes up. He messed up, somehow, he must have. Does she think she looks ugly in the picture? He can redraw it better, he's sure he can! Mayb-
"It's.. it's not what i was expecting that's for sure.."
"Ah, I can start over if you like? I'm sorry I just thoug-"
"No! No no, I really… I really love it. I just…" and she turns to toss her arms around his shoulders, tucking her face into the crook of his neck, happy tears dripping onto his suit and skin. To say that he's alarmed by this would be an understatement, but when he tries to ask Liz what's wrong she just shushes him and holds him tighter, until his arms finally circle her waist and he embraces her fully. He can't say he really understands why his silly drawing means so much to her, but he's glad that it does, and glad that he did it.
Though her eyebrows are still atrocious. But.. that could be a problem for later.