Eternal Blossom

Brian’s girlfriend had been squirreled away in her hippie art room most of the month. When he didn’t hear random music coming from the room he heard her cussing up a storm. The few times he had tried to enter, she’d surprised him by having the door locked, or catching him in the doorway with a wet paint brush aimed at his chest. His interest was piqued, and his curiosity was off the charts. Therefore, when she’d been out of the house the previous day to buy supplies for his birthday party he had attempted another entry. This time, he’d made it inside.

As he’d nosed about her art room, he’d found a mass of her paint supplies scattered to hell and back, but no wet canvas, no drying sculpture, and generally speaking, no new art of any sort. Irritated that he’d been locked out of a room she’d been hiding in to assumedly create a masterpiece in for no reason, he turned a full circle in the room for one last look around the room in search of this hidden gem.

Brian’s eyes landed on the closet, and he immediately walked to the door, trying the handle. When it wouldn’t turn, he grunted in frustration at her ability to stay a few steps ahead of him in his search of answers.

He’d asked her about what she was doing, but she just kept saying it was a surprise. Whatever it was, he was certain that he’d get to the bottom of it today. After all, you can’t deny someone answers on their birthday. It was a sound philosophy, anyway, and one that he planned on cashing in on.

Brian woke up the morning of his birthday to the best head he’d ever received. Feeling her plump lips wrapped around his cock, he’d muttered a breathless, ‘happy birthday to me’ before wrapping his fingers in her dark locks.

Her technique was one that never grew old to him, and always made his toes curl from pure ecstasy. As he began to push lightly on the back of her head, he felt his member slide into her throat, pulling a loud moan from his own at the sensations she was evoking in his body.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long with her holding nothing back this morning, so he tapped the back of her head as a courtesy, knowing she wouldn’t stop anyways. The moment he felt his climax hit, his eyes shut tight, her name a breathy sigh slipping past his lips. Aiyana smiled as she looked up at him afterwards, and caressed his thigh before getting out of bed.

“I’m going to go cook you breakfast. Pancakes, or waffles,” she asked as she pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of underwear.

“Waffles,” he smiled over at her, watching her get dressed.

“Waffles it is. Happy birthday, handsome,” Aiyana whispered as she leaned over him to give him a lingering kiss.

Brian chuckled, watching her walk out of the room. He placed a hand behind his head, relaxing for a moment as he thought of just how lucky he was to have her in his life. She was caring and compassionate to a fault, stubborn, sassy, and sarcastic with just a smidge of self-deprecation. Aiyana kept him on his toes, but was also one of the kindest people he’d ever known.

Aiyana made it to the kitchen where she quickly pulled down her tin, knowing that her pain scale was raised because of her stress. However, she had vowed to herself that she was going to get through this day for Brian, making sure that he enjoyed himself fully because he deserved it. Part of making sure he enjoyed his day meant not letting him know just how much pain she was really in.

Taking a drag off of her glass bowl she’d filled, she held the smoke in her lungs until she felt that familiar burn that meant she had to come up for air. With a slow exhalation, she felt her muscles begin to finally relax. Pulling off the party was one thing, but she was mostly stressed because of the present that she’d made for him. In one of her perfectionist streaks, she’d spent most of her days tied to her canvas, working until she couldn’t see clearly for exhaustion, but she’d finished it.

Not sure how he would feel about the gift, she began to chew her lip once the bowl was cashed. Deciding her pain level was once again low enough, she put her tin away and got started on his birthday breakfast. She knew he preferred his waffles with raspberry syrup, so she’d made sure to get some home made from her father’s when she had gone to visit him the past week.

She’d gotten everything started and put a bow on the syrup before Brian made it down the stairs, freshly showered and clad only in a pair of plaid pajama pants. Her eyes roved his body appreciatively before returning to the stove to flip the bacon.

Brian wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing the side of her neck softly. With a soft smile of contentment, he watched her cook over her shoulder, his body pressed to her back fully. Aiyana snuggled back into his warm embrace as well as she could while still keeping everything from burning.

“Dad sent you a present. He isn’t going to be able to make it tonight,” Aiyana told him, turning her head to kiss his cheek.

Brian looked around, his eyes landing on the bottle with the bow. Reluctantly letting her go, he reached out and grabbed the bottle, a smile settling on his thin lips as he realized it was her father’s home made raspberry syrup.

“I’ll have to tell him thank you next time we see him,” Brian told her before boosting himself onto the counter.

“He’d love to see you, I’m sure. You haven’t gone with me in a while. You’ve been a little busy,” she told him, pouring more batter into the waffle maker.

“Speaking of being busy, what’s been keeping you so busy in your hippie den,” Brian asked smoothly, flashing her his infamous smirk that usually got him his way.

With a laugh she shook her head to let him know she wasn’t telling him. Brian groaned in mock defeat, and hung his head playfully. Glancing over at him, her smile fell and she began to gnaw at her lip nervously again. The buildup was more than she could take, and she was afraid it was too much buildup for what she’d conjured with her brush. Maybe it wasn’t good enough.

“It’s your birthday present. After breakfast, I’ll give it to you,” she told him softly, nervousness clear to him in her voice.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Aiya,” he spoke gently, slipping off the counter to once again wrap his arms around her. “I’m sure I’ll love it, though. Stop worrying your lip.”

His voice had moved swiftly from soft and gentle to demanding, and it sent a rush of warmth over her skin as she consciously let her lip go. His hands settled on her hips, his lips touching her temple briefly in reassurance.

“I didn’t get you anything. I made you something. I have it on good authority that making someone a gift is worth far more than something you can buy at the mall,” she told him with a smirk of her own.

“Rayne’s been talking to you again, I see. She would be right. Something made is always special,” Brian chuckled.

“I hope you still like it once you see it. Carry these to the table, and I’ll bring everything else,” she told him with a swift nod, holding out the plate she’d put the waffles onto.

Once he’d left with the plate, she poured their coffee and carried the remainder of plates and cups to the table much like a waitress would, her arms loaded with everything. Brian helped her put it all onto the table once she’d gotten into the room, and within moments they were settled in for their breakfast.


“Alright, I’m going to get it out of the closet that you tried to break into because you’re nosy as hell, but please be honest with me if you like it or not,” she implored him, her voice carrying the weight of her worries and insecurities clearly to his ears.

Pulling the door open, Aiyana’s hand trembled as she pulled the canvas out. Holding it to her, she tried her hardest to resist the urge to gnaw the poor plump lip in a desperate attempt to alleviate her anxiety. Even stoned, her nerves were rattled enough that she hesitated a moment before turning the canvas around for him to look at.

Brian watched her carefully, her anxiety sparking his own nervousness. If she was so worried about his reaction, he was trepidatious to see what was on the other side until she turned it around. Instantly, his heart was in his throat, threatening to cut off air supply.

Aiyana had perfectly rendered his favorite picture of him and Jimmy onto a 24x36 canvas. He’d shown it to her months ago, and that she’d remembered the story and picture so well was enough to have his heart stuttering. She’d captured the look of joy and mischief in their eyes perfectly. Their arms were wrapped around one another’s shoulders, and Jimmy was laughing, his crystal blue eyes twinkling with mirth and mischief.

Brian’s eyes grew damp with tears that were threatening to spill over, and Aiyana watched his face go through every emotion that he was feeling before settling into a wide smile that was so bright it took her breath away.

“I love it. How did you do this? It’s so real it looks like I could reach out and touch him,” Brian asked her once he’d gotten his thundering heart rate under control.

With a sigh of relief, she looked down at the painting that had taken her longer than any other painting she’d ever attempted.

“I just took my time, I guess,” she answered feebly, not sure how to answer his question, or even if it was a question that required an answer.

“Well it’s amazing. I think it needs to go over the fire place where everyone can see tonight,” he told her, his fingertips itching to reach out and touch Jimmy’s angelic face.

Aiyana nodded and sat the canvas on her empty easel before wrapping her arms around Brian in a tight hug. She was relieved that he liked his present, and felt like all of the pressure and weight that she’d been carrying; all the fear that he would feel like it was cheesy or too over the top with it’s grandiose size lift from her shoulders.

Brian wrapped his arms around her, his eyes still trained on the canvas. After a few moments he tore his gaze from Jimmy’s so that he could look at his artist. Lowering his lips to her forehead, he kissed her softly and whispered against her skin, “I love you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, we’ll go hang it now so that I can get everything ready for
tonight.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be right out with it. I need a minute,” he told her before kissing her softly.

Aiyana nodded, and slipped from his arms once the kiss ended. Brian watched her retreat from her artist hide-away of a room before he turned to look at the painting again. A single tear rolled down his face as he looked at Jimmy.

“You’d love her, man. I do,” Brian told the painting, feeling like he could talk to Jimmy without going to his grave. “Damn it, bro. I miss you. I know you’re laughing at me right now for talking to a painting, but I just need you to know it’s not the same around here without you.
She gets me, Jimbo. She makes me happy like I was before you died. I feel like we could grow old and boring together without getting bored of each other.”

Brian felt a calmness wash over him, and he closed his eyes. He knew from the therapy he’d gone to with a grief counselor after the guys had all decided to get clean that the feeling of someone being there with him was just his subconscious trying to reassure him, but he took solace in it anyways. Wrapping himself in the warmth and calm, he picked up the canvas and carried it to the living room.

Notes

Thank you @fyction for the reassurance and opinion when I got stuck! You're amazing.

Thanks for sticking with me, folks!