Disclaimer: I'm sick. No suing a sick girl, okay?
Notes: You may or not read Lesson Two or Three. It's not a should. This takes place around a year after the previous one shot. So here, another short one shot. Beware of a little OOCs. Happy Birthday Yoh! Advance Happy Mother's Day to all the moms in the world!
Since receiving his previous birthday present, he became persistent, kept on asking his fiancée to show her pieces. Now, a year had passed, and she's now his precious wife. However, some things never change.
A young blonde walked through the corridors of the Asakura household, supporting and caressing her womb in one hand, and a bucket full of different things in another. She will be delivering a new life in a month, yet here she is, still making her way up in the attic, beside the piano room, and do her thing.
For the 358 days since she gave him her masterpiece as his birthday present, he often brings up the topic. Always asking questions like 'How did you learn? When?', 'Anybody taught you?' etc. And because she's under his surveillance almost 24/7, she can only do her thing whenever he's off training.
Right this moment was another of those moments. She gracefully worked with paints as time passed with flying colors; literally. Just when she was halfway done with her piece did she notice her someone behind the shoji. She wasn't really surprised at that, rather, she was expecting. It's been like this for a couple of days already: she would head for the exit just in time to see a figure rushing done the stairs. Although, today's visit was quite early as usual.
"Are you just going to stand there all day?"
He emerged from the shadows, "But you won't let me watch you or show me your works or teach me how or answer my questions or…" his whining continued. Nevertheless, she cut it short. "Then what are you doing here, standing there while I paint quietly, not shooing you away?"
He grinned. Yoh didn't take a seat nor move. He just stood there, rooted on the same spot, amusedly watching her work with glee. It was like magic when she works with those brushes.
After moments of a dose of her magic, he carefully moved around without her noticing and took a palette and some paint. He took a tiny paintbrush from the bucket and stood behind her in a grin, whispering softly, "Koi-chan,"
She shivered involuntarily and replied with a 'what?' To say the least, she wasn't irritated.
He rested his head on her shoulder. "Can I?" he smiled, "Pleeeaaaassse,"
She made no effort to respond to his plea; instead, she took her present work off the stand and put it aside, replacing the previous paper with a new one.
She simply stepped aside, giving him access to the workplace. Grinning as he dipped the paintbrush a little in the paint, the paintbrush was about to touch the white paper when he halted.
No words were needed as he felt her hand guide his, majestically creating a work of art with just a few strokes. When she felt he didn't need any supervision already, she let him work on his own and create his own piece. Standing by his side, she watched.
He flicked the paintbrush as a few trickles of paint flew in a certain direction. Craning his head to that particular angle, he saw tiny spots of red on her cheeks and her eyes directed on him.
He laughed humorlessly. Or should I say, nervously.
He shut his eyes. Honestly, he was expecting an outburst right there and then. But he received none.
Because his eyes were shut, he didn't know that she already had a brush in hand, dipped in a shade of brown. "Yoh, open your eyes."
And the moment he obeyed the command did he felt the wet brush stain a circle around his eyes.
"You look like a dog," she added a black spot on his nose, "and a stupid one at that,"
Anna stifled a laugh. He really does look like a dog. Nonetheless, her fun suddenly faltered when she saw the mischievous smile on his face.
"Really?" He said, a brush in hand.
Without any given moment to evade, she found herself having a red circle in each cheek. "Well, you look like a doll," he smiled, "a pretty cute blushing doll,"
Of course, it simply didn't end there. They didn't stop until they made each other a living portrait.
Days passed since the incident and the room was temporarily forgotten. Well, she thought it was.
She woke up on a sunny Friday morning. Originally, she was planning to do a special breakfast that day since she didn't have anything prepared for his day. Although how can she do that if the person she's about to present that special breakfast woke up earlier than she did?
Seeing there's no other way in her present state, she stood to sit on their futon to adjust on the daylight. But it wasn't sunlight she saw.
"I was never good on doing realistic things, so I made abstract."
She smiled, she was supposed to be the one surprising him, not the other way around. Either way, "It's wonderful. Happy Birthday,"
He let go of the painting and went to envelope his wife in a warm embrace. His hand rested on her swollen tummy, "You've given the most magnificent gift I could ever have," his lips met hers, "thank you,"
"…and for being a great wife and a dazzling mother-to-be…"
Review if you may. Constructive criticisms welcome. Reasonable flames accepted.
I didn't proof-read this piece, pardon the mistakes. Who knows, maybe I'll post another one shot again next year.
Heart Lessons: Painting © aPpLecHeRrY™ May 2006