J/P, Rated PG
Disclaimer: The Big-Mountain-People own everything Trek. Do I really have to say this?
I blow him a kiss.
"Keep still, honey."
He's shifted for the umpteenth time. I'm trying to capture the light in his hair with my pastels. It's dishevelled from his sleep. He looks so gorgeous.
His eyes are fixed on the mug that sits beside me on the floor. But I want to finish the picture first, it's really only a matter of seconds. The pastels scrape over the paper.
He's not even interested in my drawing of him.
And I can't really blame him.
I, too, do like my coffee first thing in the morning, after all.