Happy Birthday, Alan Wilder!

Morning

He's so beautiful. Lying there, sleeping, snoring softly and being absolutely adored.
I fold my hands over one another atop his chest, and rest my chin on my hands.
I study him- like an artist- for what feels like hours in the warm, orange, morning sunshine.
It highlights some underappreciated parts of him.
His eyelashes.
The mole on his chin.
The wrinkles around his eyes.
His perfectly-shaped lips.
Oh, his lips...
I know that if I kiss him, I'll wake him, and I don't want to disturb him but I can't help myself... and so I reach up to steal a kiss.

He stirs, he groans softly into my lips, and he's none too happy about being woken up but ah, he doesn't mind as long as you keep the kisses coming.

Alas, humans cannot survive on kisses alone- one needs air, no matter how lovely the kiss is.

"Happy birthday. My sweet man."

I'm looking at him again, and as I admire his eyelids- such a soft and tender part of him, showing the years he's been through and yet still so young in his own way- he lazily opens his eyes.

"Is it..?"

I hug him.
"Yes, it is! Happy birthday-"
And the song slipped softly out of my throat, voice scratchy from sleeping sediments, and he smiles...
Drinking in the sun, the smell of clean cotton bedsheets, and the voice of one who loves him.

"-and many more!"

I finish, and he sits up, nearly abruptly, to hug and kiss and thank me.

"But Alan... I've not even made the cake yet." I feign disappointment but I can't stop smiling.

It's his special day.
He always takes care of me... such good care, truly, I just want to return the favour...

He kisses me, and I'm still a bit sleepy so my will power is weak, and I can't help but melt into him.

"Thank you, love... Today's already perfect." He speaks softly, as he holds me in his arms.

"Wait "till I finish your cake!"

And I tear myself away from him, sad to go but happy to get started on his cake.

I found a recipe... I'm sure he'll love it...!

It is in another language, but I am learning it after all! Should go well in all areas!

I enter the kitchen and I let the baking begin.

~♡~

An hour later and the other language has not meshed with my brain at all, and the kitchen is a mess and I have started the conception of the world's worst 'World's Best' cake.
I think. I refuse to cry over this today, even though it upsets me so that I'm not doing very well for Alan on his birthday.

I think some more.

Hm... these two pound cake layers look fine. They look normal. I think I did something to the merengue, though...
This can be salvaged.
He will love anything if I soak it in alcohol.

Alright, it's decided.
I will smash these fruits, and put them between the two cake layers, (I don't know how cream would hold up,) and then I will soak it all in... peanut butter whiskey. If I can't find it then I'll use spiced rum.

Okay, let's try again.

~♡~