One Year

Part 3

"So, when do I get my Mickey Mouse toy present?" Matt asked after we finished both pizzas. We were lying on the floor, atop a mountain of cushions and blankets, my head resting on Matt's stomach while he tangled his fingers through my hair. "Just for you to know, if it's not an actual Mickey Mouse toy, I'll be slightly disappointed."

I laugh, struggling to get up having eaten way too much. After my third attempt to sit up, I sigh and give up. "It's over there," I said, vaguely pointing towards a corner of the studio. "It's the one that's wrapped and has your name splattered on the front."

Matt loves gifts. Like, seriously, I've never seen a puppy get that excited over anything, and puppies are the most excitable creatures ever. Getting up quicker than a strike of lightning, Matt rushes over to where I put his gift and grabs a hold of it before rushing back over and placing it in front of him. She starts tearing at the wrapping, and I roll my eyes at how he's missed the message I'd written on the front. It only said, Love You, Monkey, but still.

"Wait, what is it?" Matt asked just before the wrapping came undone entirely. "No, wait, don't tell me." A second later, he says, "No, tell me. No, don't."

The internal debate goes on forever, until eventually, Matt smiles and takes off the last layer of wrapping. The paper falls like snow around us as Matt finally sees the painting I made for him. From the way he stayed silent, I felt a pang of worry spread through my body.

"Oh, God, you don't like it!" I shrieked, looking over at him. "I knew I'd mess up. Look, I can get you something else, I swear. Name it and I'll get it for you because I know I totally suck at buying gifts and well, you know better than anyone that romance is not my thing, but I thought I nailed it this time."

The painting was oil on canvas, and it was one based on a photograph that Matt took of me in a bar in London over summer vacation. He kept raving about the photo for months after and I knew he carried it around in his wallet, proudly showing it to everyone that asked him if he had a girlfriend. I thought it would be a nice gesture to have the photo made into a painting, that way it would be with him forever.

"Matt, seriously, I can get you-"

"Anah," his voice was barely above a whisper and it was incredibly shaky, making me worry even more. Matt spun his head to look at me, his face etched with awe and a wide smile. "It's perfect. Now I feel bad for just getting you that ring."

Slightly offended, I pulled the hand that wore ring up to my chest, clutching it to my heart. "Don't ever say that. You're not getting the ring back, mister," I tell him sternly. "This is your promise to me."

"And this," Matt looks at the painting once more. "Anah, you really do know how to do romance. This means more than any ring ever possibly could."

"Not to me," I say, leaning over at him and nestling into his arms. He draped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me tightly to his side. "Does that mean you like the painting? I spent months getting it perfect."

Truly, I had. My roommate got annoyed of coming back to the dorms and smelling paint. She threatened to have me kicked out of the room if I didn't quit my art work. Eventually, the super took pity on my and told me that there was an old utility shed up on the roof of our door building that was no longer in use and he gave me the key to turn it into my temporary studio. I worked on the painting whenever I was free, usually into the early hours of the morning, and between tests and such. Plus, much to my annoyance, I couldn't get my hands right. It bugged me big time and I still wasn't entirely happy with the outcome.