Desolation

thirty one

"Rose," he whispered before quickly engulfing me into a tight hug. His arms wound around my waist while mine rested on his shoulders. I buried my face into his neck, feeling surrounded by his earthy smell. He squeezed my sides before finally letting me go.

"Do you like it?" I smiled at him.

He looked back at the wall before switching his gaze to me, "I love it. How did you even think of doing this? It's really beautiful," he spoke sincerely.

I beamed at him and walked closer to the wall, "You've heard of Vincent Van Gogh right?"

He nodded his head and I continued, "Well he has a painting called Almond Blossoms so what I did is that I replaced the almond blossoms with roses. I guess you could call it Rose Blossoms instead," I laughed.

"I'm glad you decided to do this. I've seen that painting, Almond Blossoms, it's pretty cool. I think I like the roses better though. Aren't flowering trees supposed to represent hope and awakening?" he scrunched up his forehead and looked unsure.

"Yeah," I confirmed his thought before looking back at my art piece. I had tried my best to recreate the painting using markers since I didn't have paint with me. The entire painting was similar except for the roses that I had replaced the original blossoms with. I had incorporated the little details too, just like Van Gogh. I loved his work.

I wasn't sure if Stephen would have actually liked it or not but I didn't have to worry about that anymore. As soon as he had stepped into his room to take a look at the painting, the first thing he did was pull me into a huge hug. Since he liked to call me Rose instead of Noelle all the time, I figured I'd put roses in his room.

Stephen came and stood next to me, looking at the wall, "It looks so good, I don't really feel like hanging up a TV anymore," he smiled.

I laughed, "I don't think it would matter. It's not as great as Van Gogh's real work. His paintings are absolutely amazing. I fucking love his work."

"I think Dali is better," he challenged.

I rolled my eyes, "There is no comparison between the two. They've both got their own different style and paintings. Van Gogh is all about Impressionism and Divisionism. He was one of the greatest painters in the history of Western Art. It's so tragic that his paintings became well known after he committed suicide," I sighed.

"I was just messing with you even though I'm quite impressed with how much you know about him," he winked at me.

I shrugged and moved away from the wall before walking out of his room towards the living room.

"But Dali is definitely better," he yelled from his room and laughed while I rolled my eyes and perched myself on the couch. Before I could tell him that I was getting bored, I heard my phone ringing back in his room. I had left my purse in his room and my phone was in it.

"Hey could you get my phone for me?" I called to Stephen and waited for him to walk back with my phone. I was looking out through the windows when I heard his footsteps.

"Who was it?" I turned around and asked even though my phone had stopped ringing. As soon as my eyes fell on his hands, I felt my face turn pale. What the fuck?

He stood there, my phone in one hand and a small white bottle in the other. He was looking down at the bottle and then eventually he looked up at me, his eyes were wide open.

"What's this?" he asked in a stern voice.

I didn't say anything and just stared at the bottle instead. How did he find that? No one fucking knew about that and I wasn't fucking ready to talk about it with anyone just yet. It was my personal business and no one else's.