A/N: Happy 40th to the newest cougar missjend. I love you sweetheart.
Thanks to OnTheTurningAway for making this pretty.
Disclaimer: I own many porn prizes from missjend...SM own the rest.
It was a hot, summer day and the humidity was stifling.
As much as I loved the outdoors, I needed to be inside, to be someplace that would stimulate my errant mind.
Art. That was the answer, the European Art exhibition at the Kimbell.
After that day, I would never look at Van Gogh's Street in Saintes-Maries the same again.
It was that painting that brought the stormy grey eyes and the magical feel of first love into my life.
It would also forever be associated with my biggest heartbreak and triumph.
It was our painting, it was our love.
Our passion was intense, bodies sweaty, writhing, thrusting, cumming.
He screamed my name as he fucked me hard, my hands braced against the wall. He marked me with his mouth, his teeth, his nails, but most importantly with his heart.
That last night, he made love to me. I was on my back and he held my hands in his as he thrust in and out of me. It was perfect.
Laying in his arms afterwards, I said "Jasper, I love you" he looked at me, told me "Edward, I can't" then got dressed and left.
My fucking heart broke.
Jasper shaped me into the man I became. I went from trusting, sensitive and caring to cold, hard and unfeeling.
He took my virginity and threw it away. He took my trust in him and trampled it. He took my love and walked out on it. He took my heart and has never returned with it.
It's been two years and I've thought of him every day. In every tight hole I buried myself in, I remembered him sheathed in me.
He was the only one to be inside me, that part of me was and always would be his.
Jasper was here, on my doorstep, a broken man, begging for another chance.
I asked the question, the one I feared the answer to.
He pulled me to him, kissing me, lighting my body on fire, and I gave in.
I let him make love to me, feeling whole for the first time in years. It was passionate, sweet and perfect. He told me he loved me, looking at me, waiting for my response.
I asked the question again. "No" was his answer. My heart fell. I refused to be his secret and I told him to go.
Life went on for everyone else but I was broken. If I hadn't let Jasper touch me, I wouldn't feel like this.
Sitting in my room, I looked at the print of our painting.
It was there when I met him, when he made love to me that last time and when he walked out my door again. The painting had seen it all, my greatest joy and deepest sorrow.
I ached for him. My eyes have shed more tears than I knew possible for him. I missed him.
He sent a note, "Meet me at our spot tomorrow."
Would I go?
Jasper was waiting for me when I walked into the museum, looking relieved at the sight of me.
He was standing with a blonde woman. I was on edge, walking towards him, unsure of why we were there.
He introduced me to his sister and she hugged me tightly.
Jasper gazed at me, told me he always loved me and kissed me hungrily. I held him close, tears spilling over.
He knelt before me and handed me a set of matching rings, telling me he was mine forever if I would have him.
In front of our painting, I said yes.
Review please and let me know what you think please...this is my first time at drabbles...