Little Annotations | Tristan Dugray

chapter twenty-one

A/n: If you have a final or have had a final, just take a deep breath— you'll be okay :)

December 31st was never "New Years Eve." To Tristan and Genevieve.

Well, it was technically New Year's Eve, but more importantly, it was Tristan's birthday. For some reason, Genevieve was adamant about sleeping early that night, and at 12 o'clock she got up from her place on the couch and turned the lights on, ultimately scaring Tristan out of his bed.

"What the hell?"

"Happy birthday," She grinned, and threw a hoodie at him, "Let's go,"

"Where are we going?"

She clicked her tongue, "Stupid question."

Tristan lugged himself to the passenger's side of Genevieve's car, and he noticed how it was already warmed up and wondered just how long she'd been awake. So he asked, to which she responded "None of your business."

He fell in and out of sleep the entire time she was driving. Luckily, there wasn't much traffic at one in the morning. Even though Christmas was six days prior, soft tunes still softly played as she drove.

"We're here," Genevieve whispered, nudging him awake. He blinked the blurriness out of his eyes and saw that she drove him to a hotel.

"Where are we?"

"New York," She grinned.

He looked at her in awe, she wasn't kidding when she said she was going to top it.

Their room was already decorated with confetti, banners, and streamers; there were two doors on opposite ends of the room leading to two separate bedrooms. On the coffee table sat a large box and a tiny cake. Tristan sat down on the couch and she placed a birthday hat on him. The room was barely lit because the two of them were too lazy

"Happy birthday," She whispered.

Genevieve handed him a mini vanilla cake with sprinkles, "Make a wish."

Wish 1/17: I wish Genevieve would give me my presents already

"You'll get your presents in a second," She nudged him, and wrapped her arms around him for a hug, "Make a real wish,"

He thought for a second and wished again, this time in his head.

Wish 2/17: I want to not die. Fuck- I don't know?

"Done." He said.

"Was it a good wish?" She asked.

"The best."

"Good." She said, handing him an extremely large box. She decided that she was going to start simple. Four canvases for him to paint on because she knew he went through them like no other.

"These are perfect." Tristan said.

"Good," She yawned, "You get your next gift at ten,"

"That's six hours away," He commented, licking the frosting off of the little cake.

"Mhm." She said, stretching, "Your room's on the left."

Tristan woke up for the second time at 10 in the morning to the smell of tea. He peeked one eye open and saw Genevieve sitting on the couch in his room, mug in hand.

"Morning," She said quietly.

"Morning." He replied, joining her on the couch. She had her legs tucked into her chest under her blanket. Tristan motioned to the cup of tea, "Do you have one for me?"

"In the kitchen," She said, "Go get dressed too, we're going to your fifth gift."

His gift turned out to be at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She had the entire place rented out for an hour and the two of them took their sweet time going through each painting and art display. Genevieve, who didn't know much about art, listened as Tristan rambled on about all of his favorite pieces.

"We should go to the Louvre one day," He said.

"Maybe after we graduate," She said.

He hummed in agreement, "We'll make a big list of places to visit and just hit them all in a span of three months. Delphine can even come just in case you get sick of me,"

"Impossible." Genevieve replied. She hooked her arm through his and they walked on through the museum.

On their way out, they snuck past the large crowd that was already forming on the steps and got into the car that was waiting for them down the street. Tristan glowed with happiness and she adored that.

"What's my next gift?" He said eagerly.

"I knew you'd say that," She said, and reached behind her seat and handed him a box that was larger than his torso.

"I found out about these paints in a book," She explained as he opened the box. Inside, over a thousand containers of paints in various shades sat. "I couldn't find any in the shops nearby so I placed an order with the shop and picked them up this morning."

"They're gorgeous,"

"Well now you don't have to squeeze your paints for every last drop." Genevieve said.

"Oh I'll do it either way," He said.

She dropped two books in his lap and grinned wickedly.

How to deal with anger issues and How to commit to something, an informational for the uncommitted.

"Shit," He laughed as he flipped through the book. The commitment book was noticeably shorter, in a comical way, "Touché."

"Those were harder to find than the actual paints," Genevieve said, "None of the bookstores had them, so I had to go to a gag store."

"Shhhh," He held a finger up as his eyes scanned over the anger issues book, "I'm reading."

"Oh my fault." She laughed.

Gifts 9-16 came throughout the day. The roles were reversed so Tristan was the one solving little clues. He had no idea how Genevieve planted his gifts all over New York, but she managed to do it— extremely well. They watched the sunset on the Brooklyn Bridge and wandered around aimlessly for a few hours. Because it was New Year's Eve, New York was naturally more crowded

"You know the hotel has a perfect view of Times Square," Genevieve said, as she unlocked the room door.

"One minute till midnight." Tristan said as he ran to the balcony doors, throwing them open to let the cool air spill in the living room of the hotel.

"Shit— you still haven't gotten your last gift." She exclaimed as she disappeared into her room. She came out with a book with a little bow on it.

"Oh I must be special..." Tristan whistled as he flipped through the books. She had writing on each page, little pictures, comments, and index cards. Reading the book would be one adventure, but her notes would be a whole other world.

She wrote her mind down on this book He thought. No one had ever gotten a gift like that from Genevieve, she considered her thoughts to be private, and the fact that she took her time to open her thoughts up to Tristan— was unreal.

"Happy New Years," She giggled, throwing confetti in the air. The fireworks sounded and glowed the balcony up with different lights. A different shade every second, Tristan looked up from the book and little annotations to stare at Genevieve lovingly.

The clock struck twelve and she was still by his side.

Wish 17/17: I want Genevieve to be happy, whether it be with me, or someone else. I hope she always finds happiness.