"Matt, I swear I will throttle you if you say that one more time!"
There was a point in your life when you questioned the words that came out of your mouth, but here you are, standing in the kitchen with your boyfriend, saying those words to him.
"Babe, calm down" Matt laughed, not sensing the annoyance in your voice. Or he did know it, but he ignored it because you were being overdramatic.
"How am I supposed to calm down when you won't tell me what you want for Christmas?" You argued, trying to explain how important this was.
"Babe, Christmas is two months away"
Okay, you were early. But there's nothing wrong with that. The more prepared you were, the less time for panic. Before Matt, you never stressed about giving gifts. Sure, you bought gifts for your parents and relatives, but relationships were different. You wanted him to have a perfect gift because he was worth it.
But, this was your third time asking and his answer was still the same. "Nothing"
At this point, you were considering grabbing a ziplock bag, blowing air into it, sticking a label on it, that said 'nothing' and gave it to Matt on Christmas Day. Knowing Matt, he'd find a way to make it meaningful and trump your attempt of a joke.
What do you buy a guy who has everything?
~
"Y/N, babe!"
You heard Matt call from your art studio upstairs. When you were both looking at houses to buy in L.A, you knew that having an art studio was an important part of it. Matt spent hours looking at properties that would allow you all the space and benefits of a regular home, with the added luxury of an art studio.
You practically lived in your studio, as one would say when you're a full time artist. Being good at art is easy, but being different made art. Since you were little, you knew you had talent and as much as you'd grown up, you climbed the ladder of success.
You were seen as something special, which is why you were staring at an A1 canvas of yourself right now.
"Yeah?" You called back, hoping he wouldn't come upstairs yet. Knowing his routine, he came back from a walk, so he wouldn't come see you until he had a shower.
"What are you doing? Are you busy?"
Yes, you are busy. You decided on a lot of nothing for Christmas this year, so you painted a giant A1 canvas of yourself. That was what you should've said if you wanted to tell the truth, but you avoided it all together.
"No, why?" You asked, dropping your paintbrush into a pot, before covering the painting with a sheet and moving it into the corner of the room out of mind.
"Do you want to go out for dinner?"
You walked down the stairs, seeing him looking all hot and sweaty. He looked good.
"Sure you don't want a slice of lasagne?" You teased
Matt walked over to you, laughing. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. Thanks to the stairs, you had a height advantage. You kissed his sweaty head and he hummed.
"Babe. As much as I love you, because I do. I don't think I can do another night of lasagne" he smiled when you pouted.
"What's wrong with my cooking?"
"Nothing. I'm just worried we'll turn into lasagne if we're not careful" he joked, making you shake your head. "And, I want to treat my girlfriend to dinner, okay?"
"I guess" you nodded, definitely wanting an excuse to go out with your boyfriend for a change.
~
After hours, you finished the painting.
You were so happy with the finished product, so much that the painting looked better than you in real life.
Christmas was going well.
You and Matt were spending it together this year and then going to his family for New Year's. Both of you cooked the dinner. You watched crap Christmas movies. The atmosphere was perfect and all that was left to do was give each other the gifts.
"You first" Matt nodded towards you.
"No, you"
"Y/N, I insist" he raised his eyebrows
"Okay" you sighed.
It wasn't that you didn't want to give him the gift, you were nervous about it. You really wanted him to like it and you were scared for any other reaction other than being happy. You took criticism to heart, and now thinking about it, maybe a portrait of you wasn't a good idea.
You stood up from the couch and held out your hands for him, watching him smile and stand up too.
"Close your eyes"
"This isn't you distracting me to go and open your presents, is it?" He asked, jokingly.
"Matt!" You stressed, already nervous
"Sorry, babe. Eyes closed now" he said, closing his eyes.
You took his hands as guided him upstairs as you walked into your studio. You sighed when you saw it, not so sure about it anymore. It was too late to back out now though.
"Uh, you can look now if you want"
The smile on his face dropped into a straight line, making your heart drop a little at the thought of him instantly hating it. This was something big. This was something special.
He walked close to the painting, tracing his eyes over it.
Once he'd spent a few minutes staring in silence he turned back to you, with tears in his eyes. Your fingers fiddled with each other as your nerves increased with every passing second of silence.
"It's, uh...it's supposed to be a painting of me. It's not great and if you hate it, that's okay, but-"
"Y/N" he cut you off.
"Yeah?"
"Just shut up and let me kiss you." He smirked, before reaching for you and pulling you into his chest for a kiss. Pulling back he didn't let you go far, holding your face close to his and looking between your eyes and your lips indecisively.
"Is that your way of telling me you hate it?"
"No. That's my way of telling you I fucking adore you and love you much more than I did yesterday" he smiled, kissing you again.
"So you don't hate it?"
"I wasn't lying when I said you were better than Picasso, babe"
