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The night has grown old, your boyfriends room dim and dark except for a lamp that illuminates the surface he's been working on for hours, delivering delicate coats of paint in just the right places with various brushes.
You're on his bed, head propped up by your hand as you watch him with a sort of mesmerized gaze, your eyes transfixed on what he's doing, and most of all, him. You have to admit, sometimes it can be tiring, having him not even come to bed until hours later when he's worked on his mural for what feels like years; but nothing compares to seeing the look of happiness and fulfillment on his face when he's completed something.
You throw the soft covers off of your body and hop out of bed, trudging over to Henry's long and limber figure. "Are you sure you haven't gone into a trance? Is my boy still there?" You ask in a playful tone as he turns to face you. You take the lamp that's on the small table he has fixed just in front of him, and lift it up to illuminate his brooding, yet still somehow soft features.
You can see the color of his skin perfectly, the pale honey tone mixed with the bright, alerting color of pink that has formed in splotches over his body. You love everything about him, and his scars have never been something you even think about since it's just a part of him. His eyes always look brighter under light too, and the shadows of his face look even more defined, rounded and framed by his soft, chestnut colored hair.
"There he is." You state with a giggle, causing a smile to grow on his face as you set the light back down and aim it towards the wall where it was previously at. "You're a silly one, you know that?" Henry replies with a chuckle, a jubilant feeling in his chest as he looks down at you, dressed in one of his oversized T shirts and a pair of fuzzy socks that you've had since the two of you first started dating.
You move closer to his figure, head just below his broad shoulders as you stare up at the wall, marveling at all of the beautiful color combinations and purposeful brush strokes that he's created. "Henry, this is beautiful." You say, pure astonishment in your voice as you stare at the perfect vision of art in front of you.
You can practically feel him smiling, and you're so focused on the wall that you jump a bit in surprise when you feel his warm presence behind you; firm chest against your back. "Thankyou, I try." He says with a chuckle, the deep sound resonating through you. "I wish I knew how to do stuff like this." You reply back, still staring up at his work with wide eyes. "Here, I'll teach you." His soft voice says.
You are confused only for a moment, before a warm smile breaks across your face when you feel his long arms loop under yours; large hands holding the paintbrush at your fingertips. "Henry I don't wanna mess it up." You say with an anxiety filled voice, worried you might ruin the beautiful mural. "No you won't, I got you, I'm right here." He coos, leaning down to be more level with your head so he can see better. You can feel his warm breath on your ear and the soft tickle of his hair against your neck.
"Ok, just start slow with me." He says, both of your hands placed together as he keeps the brush steady in your hands, lifting the paint soaked bristles up to the wall. Your heart is racing, something that you find quite odd since you thought you were used to being this close with Henry, but I guess when you really love someone, that feeling never goes away.
He guides your hand down, delivering a soft stroke of paint to the surface. "See, you're doing fine, nothing to be worried about." He gently states, a soft chuckle emitting from his pink lips as he speaks. His palm is warm and rough against yours from his years of working, but they still bring so much comfort and tranquility to you whenever you feel them.
He has to bend his arms slightly due to their length, his elbow placed just above your own. His skin is smooth against yours, and you find yourself wanting to feel every inch of him, to bury yourself in his embrace and to bask in the heat that radiates from his aura. He is so full of light, even through the darkest of times, but little do you know; he's only able to live that way because of you.
He continues helping you, and you're so focused you don't even realize that his fingertips have traveled down your forearm, and you're now painting by yourself, repeating the motion he taught you earlier. You can't see it, but he's smiling like a lovesick idiot behind you, watching your movements and feeling so incredibly happy his heart can't take it.
"Did I do ok?" You ask, once you feel like your small contribution is completed, taking the brush off of the wall and turning your head slightly to look up at him. "You did amazing." He says back, as you turn around to completely face him, noticing the wide grin that is lined across his pink lips. "But you know, I think you're the real work of art." He says again, as you stare up into his big green eyes and admire everything about the man you love.
"That was a good one, really smooth, Pearl." You say with a giggle, setting the paintbrush down before reaching up and cupping his rosy cheeks in your palms. "I practiced it a couple times." He replies in a playful tone, leaning down as you get on your tippy toes; your lips meeting in the middle. His color stained fingertips delve into your hair, combing through the strands, his beating fast behind his ribs and yours doing the same.
He feels as if he'd be content for the rest of his life, as long as he has his art, and you. He used to dread waking up, not being able to even go outside or do normal, mundane things; but now, he doesn't even want to go to sleep half the time because he knows he won't get to look at you, or to hear you laugh and speak, sounds that are the closest thing to poetry he's ever heard. He loves life more than ever because you are a part of it.
Some Henry fluff because he's the most precious baby boy omg, working on some intense stuff, excited for you guys to read it! Love youuuu❤️-xx
