The Painting I Called 'You'

Ch-16: Mal

Theodore

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I woke up to chattering. 

My room completely darkened. I barely saw anything as I sat on my bed, listening, no, eavesdropping on the conversation outside. 

Ella and Koa's chatter went through one ear and came out the other. I didn't pay attention to their loud laughs or talks, I stared at the wall in front of me blankly. 

Everything felt like nothing.

Out of habit I roll my ring around my finger, watching it's engraving glint against the moonlight that slipped through a small crack in the curtains.

How long was I even asleep?

After what I assumed to be twenty minutes of mindless staring I got up, splashed water on my face, and went down. Koa was in the kitchen with Ella; I think they were cooking.

When I got closer, I realized they were in fact baking, not that it made a difference to me. I quietly sat down at the counter, watching them.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Ella asks, buttering the pan.

"What's there to do?" Koa shrugs nonchalantly, receiving a surprised gasp in return.

Every year we merely decorated the house, mostly because Koa couldn't stand the sight of his plain house during the season and I didn't want to disappoint, neither of us had a genuine mood to celebrate.

"I'll come over and we can decorate!" Ella offers.

"Sure, Theo and I do that every year, what more is there to do?"

"Well, you cook, have dinner, drink, spend time with others..." her words trail off into chatter again. I hear her words, but I don't listen. My thoughts carry me away from their conversation.

—★ —

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Mal asks, brushing a hand through my hair.

I ditch the book in my hands and look at him, "Cash in on a Christmas coupon? What else?"

He whacks the back of my head and I whine, "What!? Ma drinks every day. Christmas is no special day."

"Wow," Mal drawls out sardonically, "I'll always trust the world to have idiots like you to ruin holidays."

My lips pout, "Fuck off." I roll my head off his lap and onto the mattress.

"Spend it with me this time," Mal says, pulling me back.

"How? What about your father?" I peer up at him.

"He'll throw a party again this year, no one will check who's in my room, plus I can tell him you're my friend."

"Is that what you've been telling him all this while? 'Historians say they were good friends.'" I pull air quotes as I speak. 

"Shut up." he rolls his eyes, I laugh, sitting up.

"Ooh, does this mean I get presents?" I clap my hands.

"Well, I'll get you one anyway?"

"Do I really have to wait till Christmas to give you yours?"

"You have it already?" Mal's eyes widen curiously, "What is it?"

"It's really rare," I shift closer, he looks at me intently, "Not everyone gets this, you know?"