Elliot

Twenty-Six

Tobias didn't want to celebrate for his birthday but I still wanted to do something special for him. We made a rule about not talking about the accident. Tobias and I didn't want to remember the pain that that night had caused.

I called him on his birthday. It was morning. "Hello?"

"Hey."

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

He chuckled. "Sweetheart?"

"You don't like it? Okay, what about darling?"

"We're calling each other pet names now?"

"Something like that."

Tobias laughed. I found myself smiling.

"Thanks, love," he said.

My smile widened. Funny how he still never fails to make me smile. "Come over later at lunch," I said.

"I thought you were the one who'll come over?"

"My bed's comfy. Can't stand up."

"Excuses." I could tell he's rolling his eyes. I smiled at that thought. "Okay, I'll see you later then."

"See you, dummy."

***

He arrived at exactly twelve noon. I gave him a hug right away. "Happy birthday," I said.

"Thank you." He hugged me back, tighter.

Dad was also quick to pop up from the kitchen and greeted Tobias. Clara went downstairs and did the same. The house was full of love and affection. It's the best of the bests.

Tobias saw the prepared food on the table. He looked at me. "I told you there's no need for celebration," he said.

"What do you mean? We're just having lunch." I said.

"Yes, a normal lunch." Clara said.

Tobias and I both took a seat. And then we started eating. Dad and Clara were the masters of the kitchen earlier. I helped them by running last minute errands. We all talked about a lot of things. There are times where Dad would stand up and give Tobias a hug for some reasons. Tobias would laugh and smile at all times. He talked about photography and his family. Clara would reach out for more food. Sometimes we'd fight if we both get the same dish.

When we were done eating, Dad stood up and went to his bedroom. He came back with a small box and handed it to Tobias.

"For you, young man. Happy birthday." Dad said.

Tobias glanced at me. I think he wasn't aware that Dad is also full of surprises.

"Open it." I said.

And when he did, there was a huge smile on his face. "Merde, I was just planning to buy this 'cause I'm out of it. How did you know I needed this so much?" Tobias said. His accent just got stronger at that moment. I guess that meant he's really surprised.

"Elliot, mentioned that you like taking pictures. He was the one who told us that you need more films for your cameras." Dad said.

"Thank you, Mr. Hamilton."

"Oh, please. Call me Connor."

He laughed. "Thank you, Connor." He looked at Clara. "Thank you to you too, Clara."

Clara waved a hand. "No sweat."

"Actually, thank you to you all. I know I said I didn't want a celebration, I told that to Elliot a million times, but I appreciate this a lot. It was really fun."

"Don't thank me yet, man. I got something for you later also." I said. I didn't know why, but we all just smiled at each other.

Tobias and I went to my bedroom afterwards.

"You really are a stubborn child, are you?" Tobias said.

"Shush, my love. The day's not over yet."

I grabbed a small box. I handed it to him and he opened it. "A marker?" he said. "And a key."

"Follow me."

We went to the farthest part of the house. It was the part where one scuttle hole leads to the attic. Tobias looked puzzled. Why does he look so adorable when confused?

"Key goes there." I pointed at the attic door.

He inserted the key inside the keyhole then we entered the attic. I flickered the light switch then it illuminated the whole place. This place was the safest room where I could be, aside from my room. This is where all of my secrets are hidden. The warm light from the small window brightened up the place.

"You have an attic?" he said.

"No, you're just hallucinating." I said. He glared at me. "Yes, Tobias, we have an attic."

"What are those?"

Those are my own treasures. "My paintings."

"Why are they covered?"

"Dusts."

I pulled the blanket that's covering the first painting. It was the artwork that I first made when I was nine. It was a painting of my mom—though you wouldn't recognize it clearly because my skills weren't that good at that time. I gave the painting a title: Beautiful Woman, Beautiful World.

I let Tobias did the work for the rest of the paintings. All of them were created through out the years of my existence. All of it had their own titles.

The Man in the Living Room.

Every Other Secrets of the World.

Stairs to Infinity.

The Puzzled Heart of A Lover.

Art of Romance.

And many more.

The last painting was the one I treasured most. It was a gift from me, to someone that I care about the most. Tobias pulled the blanket and it revealed the painting of us.

Tobias and I, cupping each other's faces, our foreheads leaned onto each other, our faces covered with a few wounds, his knuckles painted with deep red bruises, my nose patched with a bandaid, our eyes closed. Us, against the cruel world.

Tobias was quiet. He kept staring at the painting in front of him. Then he looked at me. I didn't know what emotion was shown in his eyes.

"I know we both had a rule of forgetting that certain accident," I said. "but I know for a fact that we looked really good at that moment."

Then he chuckled. "We do." He looked at the painting again. And he looked at me. "Thank you, Elliot."

I reached out to grab his waist and pulled him close. Then I kissed him with all my heart.

All this time, I was figuring out what bothers Tobias Antoine so bad. I didn't realize that he was such in pain to the point that hurting himself was the only solution he got. But now that I'm here, now that I'm by his side, he would never think about hurting himself again. Pain wasn't his friend, it was his enemy. I was his ally. And I would never leave him alone in this battle.

I flipped the painting backwards. "The honor is all yours." I said. "What should we name it?"

Tobias thought for a moment. "The Colorful Art of Healing Wounded Souls."

"You are such a nerd."

He laughed. "Maybe."

Tobias wrote the title at the back corner of the canvas. I wrote my name under the title. He wrote his beside mine. I flipped it back again. And we stared at it for a long time.

"That's the most beautiful thing in the world," he said.

"That's the second most beautiful thing in the world."

"Really? What's the first one?"

"You." I kissed him again. "And will always be."