Recklessly, Impossibly, Yet Beautifully You

26

Vanna's POV:

I already had a gift somewhat planned in my mind for Wilbur.

I know he appreciates more meaningful heartfelt presents than some shiny expensive gift he'll use twice.

After he let me hold onto his special guitar pick I knew I had to turn it into something.

Something for us, to reflect on the tiny little piece of plastic that gave me him.

I get up and head to the art store. I need a bunch of random supplies and get home to start working.

Skip past a bunch of sweat and way too much erasing and I'm done.

On a big canvas is a textured painting of space filled with stars fading into a gray rainy sky.

Our two favorite things, stars and rain.

Then in the middle of the ombré between the two scenes is a flower and the center of it is his special guitar pick.

I really loved it. It was the epitome of Wilbur and Vanna. Some randomly chaotic art piece that isn't nearly close to perfection or realism but it's equivocal, open for interpretation. Some colors perfectly blended and other sharply dotted out of nowhere.

It makes you want to tilt your head, look at it from another angle and see every aspect of it. It was us.

December 24th 7:18 pm

Wilbur's POV:

I came up to Vanna's door and knocked three times.

She opened the door with a beautiful warm smile while trying to click in one of her golden hooped earrings.

"Merry Christmas Eve ya filthy animal" she says.

I laugh at her welcoming statement and squeeze her into a tight hug.

She snakes her arms up around my neck and I whisper, "hey there beautiful" into her shoulder.

Her house is decorated and feels so cozy.

Light Christmas music was playing in the background along with more baking ingredients set up in the kitchen.

"More cookies?" I ask walking in.

"Nope we're making a Christmas cake, and don't even try to tell me that's untraditional"

I smile, "fuck traditional, let's make a Christmas cake".

Tonight we learned that I can not bake.

To sum up the scene: if you were to walk in when we started cooking you'd see Vanna with her hands on my wrists guiding them to stir the batter.

If you were then to walk back in 15 minutes later you'd see me panic stricken trying to stop the batter from pouring all over the counter while Vanna laughs maniacally taking a picture.

By the end of it we had the shittiest looking cake that seemed much more fit for a horror halloween party than a peaceful Christmas Eve night.