Conversations With The Moon (Bruno Mars One-Shots)

Marry You pt. 10

On the way home from work, you phone sounds and you answer. Asher apparently wants to take you out for the first time in a while and you graciously mentally thank him for the change of pace and the distraction from being trapped inside your own head. He tells you he's about to start getting ready and that he wants you to meet him at his place. You agree and start your make up routine. Once you're finished with it, you throw on some sweats, put your outfit on a hanger and head out to your car. You make the twenty minute drive to Asher and then assume your 'getting ready' process in his room.

"Baby? You almost ready?" Asher calls from the living room where you hear some game-show going on.

"Yeah, almost, I'll be about soon," You reply. You take a seat on the his bed nearby to buckle the strapp-y heels you've chosen to wear with the slim-fit paper bag trousers and loose low-cut, long sleeve navy top with little yellow flowers all over. You rise and stand in the mirror where you look over your outfit. Instead of wearing your hair in curls as you normally would, you have chosen to straighten and part it down the middle to draw it back in a low ponytail with two wisps from the crown of your head. You grab your favorite little black clutch already packed with what you need and head out into the living room.

Asher, who is already dressed, is seated with his back to you watching TV. You pull the bedroom door closed and he glances behind at you.

"Ready?" his eyes come a light as he gives you the look backward from the bottom up. Asher is wearing black suede loafers with little tassels on them, black ankle-length trousers, a black and white checkered dress shirt open at the collar and a black blazer. He's wearing his two usual brown leather cord bracelets on his left wrist and a plain silver ring on his right thumb. His dark wavy hair has been lightly gelled back away from his forehead with a few strategic strands hang down is his face on one side. You nod and he rises and walks over to join you. He puts one arm around your waist, leans into your space and presses his lips to your temple.

"You look nice," he whispers as he draws away from you.

"Thank you." He leaves your and heads for the door. After opening it, he steps aside and gestures toward the open door, you smirk and walk out the door. Asher steps ahead of you and heads to his car, he gets in, starts it and you join him. The radio inside plays soft rock as the city lights beside you slide by. After fifteen minutes you arrive at some fancy Mediterranean restaurant. After drinks and a brief look at the menu, Asher orders casually and you looks to you as the waiter directs his attention in your direction. You choose something safe and then settle back in your chair. You look around and find that the music playing around you is not from a speaker but a small stage close to the bar section where there is a live cover band going through the latest hits.

"So what do you think?" Asher asks. "I figured I take you somewhere new."

"Have you been here before?"

"Once or twice with prospective buyers of my paintings or a gallery owner I was trying to get to show my work," he says glancing over at the cover band. His eyes return to you and he has a sip of wine. "What's the verdict?"

"I'm reserving judgement until I taste the food," you reply with a smirk. He raises an eyebrow then chuckles. "Always a tough critic. You've got taste; that's one of the many reasons why I need you around."

"Oh" you ask. "To know whether something's good or not?" he leans toward you taking the hand you've rested on the table at the base of your wine glass.

"To keep me in check." He leans in and kisses your hand. You food arrives and once you're another glass of wine in Asher starts talking about a new painting he's working on. As usual, he starts explaining the vision he has in his mind and what made him want to paint. The he goes on about the colors he has in mind and what type of paints he wants to use whether that be oil, acrylic or other medium. As a result of the scale in his mind, he states that he would prefer to do it at his studio downtown where he has more room, where there is a lesser possibility that he might ruin something in his apartment with his paints. He then tell you that he'll out in the evenings often which you already know before it even comes out of is mouth. As you relationship history shows, you have many memories of spending evenings at his studio with him, watching him paint while you do paperwork. Back then you found it fascinating how he could go a completely blank canvas to images so vivid you swear you could step in to them because of how life-like they were. He's talented at what he does, you have to give him that and the way. The way his paintings would eat up his time was something that you had to do alot of getting used to be waiting for attention wasn't something new to you. At least when Asher ran out of certain paints or was too tired to stand up, he would return to you and then you'd have him all to yourself. If there's one thing that could take him away from his work just as quickly as lack of supplies and sleep that was thing was you. In the early months of your relationship, he often painted you for fun and for practice but he was never satisfied with what would come out of those one off works. He often tossed them and you would have to rescue them from the trash to keep for yourself. As he speaks you put on your best engaged face and listen for key points like a tired student weary of the teacher calling on you for the answer to a question. Despite the boredom racking your brain you hold conversation with him until the meal has concluded. He pays and then the two of you start out to the car. Asher pauses and checks his phone.