Jul 27, 2008 02:57
Piotr is ensconced on a rock outside Milliways, with a large sketchpad in his lap and a pencil case sitting on his empty bag.
He's working with charcoal at the moment, and from memory. The image slowly taking shape is that of a woman, with long pale hair in a braid and a lopsided half-sad smile.
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Maya's hands are in her coat pockets. She still wears her old greatcoat, from time to time, though only at Milliways (there are too many old memories associated with the uniform, for many in the Citadel), and she has stripped all rank insignia from it. It's really too warm for the coat, she is thinking, just as she spots the familiar broad-shouldered figure sitting on a rock, and she detours in his direction.
(Her smile strengthens.)
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But he does notice, and when he sees her he smiles.
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"Privyet, Piotr," she says, and she tosses her coat at the foot of the rock. "Working on a new masterpiece today?"
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His smile is more of a grin, for a moment, amused and self-deprecating both.
"It is sketching only. How are you today?"
He doesn't turn the sketchpad to show her, but neither does he make any effort to hide it.
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