"I'll be happy to be there," she said at last.
He nodded curtly, as if expecting the response. He turned and walked down another corridor. Kiera watched him, troubled by their morning interaction. The feast must be important, and his attempt to request her attendance-- rather than demand it-- impressed her.
"A'Ran," she called hesitantly. "I know you're busy, but …"
He stopped and turned, his gaze on her again, distracting her. She shook her head to focus her thoughts.
"I made something I want to show you. If you have time."
He didn't exactly leap to follow her. When he didn't object either, she started toward her room. He trailed, as if uncertain he wanted to follow at all. She waved her band in front of the access pad to her room and entered, crossing to grab her sketch book. She sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside her, nervous about showing him her art.
"You may not like it," she said. "And I'll admit, a lot of these are you. You can just ignore them, if you want."
A shiver ran through her as he sat close enough for their bodies to brush. He took the sketch pad she handed him and awkwardly pushed the pages around, unaccustomed to a book. She opened the cover for him to show the first drawing she'd done of him. Stone-faced, he stared at it, and her face grew warm at his lack of response.
"I have a better one," she said, and turned to the second drawing. He didn't respond. She turned a few more pages, until he rested a hand on hers to keep her from turning. Her face flamed hot as she saw the image from her vision: the two of them holding hands while gazing at each other adoringly and walking on the cracked planet. She tugged her hand free to turn the page quickly. He left his hand in place, preventing her.
"You did this?" he asked at last in a hushed tone.
"I did all of them. It's what I do on my planet. I draw and paint," she said, flustered as his gaze stayed on the drawing of them holding hands. "That's not a good one. I can show you more."
"No."
She searched his face, unable to read him or his response.
"This …" He trailed off, a small frown on his face. "I want this."
Her heart fluttered at his words, and she grew excited about him wanting the type of relationship like she'd drawn, until she saw him fumbling with the page as if to pull it free.