Uranus was in the middle of painting his latest portrait of you, the brush stroking in time with the flicks of his wrist, when he heard footsteps behind him. He jumped, spinning around and hiding the portrait behind his back. Thank goodness he did, for it was you standing behind him. Uranus felt his cheeks warm up slightly, but he pushed it down. His teal gaze glittered nervously, but he attempted to hide it behind a lopsided smile. “Oh uh…hey mate!” he said, his voice thick with its usual Australian accent. “What’re you doin’ all the way out here?”