Skin deep

While Laios prepared his supplies, Kabru sat on the edge of the bed, with his head held high, his chest slightly puffed out, and his legs dangling off the edge, touching the floor with his toes. He kept his hands in his lap, idly playing with the edge of the oversized shirt he'd inherited from Laios. He looked excited and nervous, sitting stiffly with a straight back, as if he was going to have a professional picture taken. Well, it was close enough. Laios was no professional, but his drawing of Kabru would technically be a portrait, drawn as faithfully as he was capable of. In colour. That made it feel different from the countless times Laios had drawn him before. More serious and intimidating and important. More real. Something that one should be careful not to mess up.